


Bottle It Up

by nutmeag83



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe, Aromantic, Aromantic Helena, Aromantic Myka, Asexual Helena, Asexuality, Aspec fest 2019, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fantasy, Gen, Illnesses, No Warehouse AU, Platonic Relationships, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Strangers to Friends to Life Partners, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Warren has cancer in this, and no one else is ill or dying, but there's no death, or lack thereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeag83/pseuds/nutmeag83
Summary: In a world where not having a soulmark labels you as soulless and a psychopath, Myka and Helena both need fake partners to continue living in society. Myka, believing she is indeed soulless, has trouble getting close to anyone. Can Helena help her see what she truly is?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy asexual awareness week! This story is part of AspecFest 2019. Check out the other fics posted for the fest at the collection link above. The name of the game is trope inversion, which you can learn more about on the tumblr page [here](https://fandomaspecfest.tumblr.com/post/187674406242/trope-inversion). My trope inversion of choice is fake relationship AND soulmate. Two for one!!
> 
> I don’t HC Helena as ace or either her or Myka as aro, but since I’m making a commentary on our society being too focused romantic/sexual relationships, go with it. :) Sub-note: I definitely do not think aros are soulless/psychopaths. This society I’m writing is just *really* fucked up.
> 
> Title is a Sara Barreilles song of the same name. 
> 
> **Warning** Towards the end of this story, Myka and Helena discuss what type of relationship they want (with both being aro and Helena also being ace), and the idea of an open relationship (for Myka, who is not ace, to find sexual fulfillment) is brought up. However, it is not something they go forward with, though it's left on the back burner as a just in case thing. Since it's not something actually brought into their relationship, I didn't feel the need to put it in the tags, but since I've had at least one reader become upset, I thought I'd add a warning here. Proceed or back out as you will. :)
> 
> Happy reading!

_ **Prologue** _

****

Myka was a rule follower. She wasn’t the smug type who looked down her nose at others because she was better at following the rules. It was more that she couldn’t let people down or disappoint them. Tracy made fun of her for it, thereby securing herself as the fun sister, but Myka didn’t care. She wouldn’t ever let her parents down.

Or so she thought, until the fateful morning she woke up to her first period. When she told her mother, the first question asked was, of course, “And your soulmark?” Having spent an hour in front of the mirror searching furiously for it, she could definitely say her soulmark hadn’t come in. The right thing to do, the rule-abiding thing to do, would have been to say that it hadn’t, and then allow herself to be quietly shipped off to a hospital or Soulless home to live the remainder of her life. She was a psychopath after all. Soulless. She couldn’t be trusted in society.

But for the first time that Myka could remember, she didn’t follow the rules. “Yeah, of course, Mom.” It wasn’t a _conscious_ lie. She hadn’t even considered it when she was checking inside her eyelids, ears, and mouth, in hopes that the mark was just hiding. She could still back out of it. Mom would forgive her if she told the truth right away, but something stopped her from doing so. She didn’t even feel guilty for the lie. Which meant that she really must _be_ a psychopath.

“Can I see it?”

“Mo-om,” Myka whined, trying her hardest to sound like the much more attitude-prone Tracy.

“Myka Ophelia Bering, don’t take that tone with me.”

“But it’s in an embarrassing spot!” For someone who never lied, she was doing amazingly well in coming up with the fabrications. She hadn’t even had to think before it popped out.

Her mother sighed. “Fine, fine. Will you at least tell me what it looks like?”

“I have school. Can we talk later?”

“Alright. Go get ready. I have some tampons and pads in my bathroom cabinet. I’ll take you to buy your own after school. And maybe we can stop for ice cream and talk?”

“Sure, Mom. Sounds great,” she said, thinking it was anything _but_.

And so began her life as a con artist.

***

Helena kept her period secret for a year and a half. Better to be considered a late bloomer than a psychopath. Boys had it so much easier. There was no one single event that marked puberty and the soulmark that came with it for them. They started getting asked about it when their voices began to change and hair started growing in, but there wasn’t a single moment like girls had. Charles had announced his at the top of his lungs to the whole house a year before Helena’s should have appeared. He’d done the proper thing that upper-class people in English society did and had his registered to make sure he found his soulmate in time to have heirs at a good age. Helena would have done the same, if she’d had a mark, which she didn’t.

The truth was, Helena didn’t care too much about having a soulmate. She wasn’t the type to giggle about boys and girls like most of her peers did. She’d much rather be tinkering in the lab she had set up in the basement, or reading a good book, or climbing the tallest trees on the estate. Even after she got her period, she still didn’t understand why people got so excited about soulmates. Sure, it was kinda nice to think of having someone who would help support you with adult things someday, but she never really drooled over anyone like her mates did. She focused on her work while trying to come up with a way to avoid being sent to a Soulless home.

When she was fifteen, she decided the only thing to do was run away. It took a further two months to follow through. It was hardest leaving her lab. Charles was an arse, and her parents barely paid attention to her, but her lab was her home.

She didn’t take anything when she left. She’d socked away money, new identity papers—courtesy of the darknet where people like her tried to stay under the radar—and a few new sets of clothes. When she finally left, she hid out in Wales for a few months, then made her way to the continent.

She really missed her lab.

_ **Chapter 1** _

_ **16 years later** _

“You coming with, Myka?”

She lifted her head from her book and glanced around to see who was talking to her. She never chatted with anyone at work, preferring to be noticed as little as possible. It was easier to remember lies if she had few to tell. As she had suspected, it was Pete trying to catch her eye. Everyone at work was friendly enough, but he was the only one who didn’t get the hint that she’d rather be left alone.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Burgers. McCallen’s. 6:30pm.”

“Umm, today?”

Pete nodded, looking a bit like a puppy waiting for his owner to throw a ball. It _almost_ got to Myka. Or. It would have, if she had a soul to be bothered by such things.

Myka chewed her lip. She had used the sick grandmother story the month before and her parents’ anniversary last week. And she’d used the excuse of being too tired three times already. But before she could decide on the best lie, Pete continued.

“Come on, Mykes. It’s my _birthday_.” His eyes, if possible, got bigger.

She cursed internally. At this point, she’d draw more attention to herself if she said no. They were a small crew at the Warehouse, the antique store where she’d been working for the past few months. It wasn’t the job she used to think she’d have, before she watched her entire future wash down the drain when she hit puberty. It wasn’t illegal to not have a soulmark, but most employers would rather not hire a psychopath, so it was hard to get a job when you weren’t registered as having one. She had been surprised the Warehouse didn’t require one, given the cost of their inventory and their need to interact with the public, not to mention Artie’s love of the rules, but she’d jumped to apply when she’d seen the ad. Working in a shop wasn’t at the top of her list of careers—that was law enforcement—but it was fine. It was good. She didn’t get asked questions she couldn’t answer. Usually.

Myka sighed. “Just for a little while,” she conceded. She yelped when her answer earned her a bear hug from her overenthusiastic coworker. She could practically feel the amused smirks from Leena and Claudia, and she heard Artie give his usually grumpy sigh when anyone was anything other than completely serious and work focused. She patted Pete’s back awkwardly. When was the last time someone had hugged her? She couldn’t remember. After what she deemed the appropriate amount of time had passed, she squirmed, and Pete finally let her go.

“Awesome! Best birthday _ever_.”

Myka wrinkled her brow. They barely knew each other. She supposed that was just one of the many things she didn’t understand, being one of the Soulless. Then she began planning how she’d get out of staying too long. She did have the new shipment to examine, price, and inventory, so she could stay at work late and go straight to McCallen’s after that, then plead tiredness or need for a shower after socializing for half an hour. That settled, she gave her social smile and put her book back in her cubby, her lunch break officially over. She had work to do.

***

Somehow, without her realizing it, Myka became one of the Warehouse family. It helped that, even though they asked her to socialize with them, they never asked about her personal life. Not even a single question about her soulmate.

Only Artie had a mate, though Myka didn’t know much about her except that she was a doctor. Pete had been bonded, but it had ended in a messy split. Just because two people were soulmates didn’t mean life was easy and perfect. Even people with souls were flawed. Pete’s mate had left him when the drinking had become too bad to deal with. He was sober now, and Myka knew he missed her. Claudia was young enough that she wasn’t expected to be bonded yet. Leena … Myka didn’t know about her. Though she was always friendly and helpful, she kept her personal life to herself. For all Myka knew, she could be bonded with 2.5 kids. She didn’t ask, and Leena didn’t offer. It was a good arrangement.

Myka was surprised to find that she liked her odd little work group. She had her own blood family, of course, but she’d distanced herself from them the moment her soulmark failed to appear. She saw them at Christmas and Thanksgiving. But ever since Pete’s birthday, she’d found her social calendar fuller than it had ever been. It was mostly Pete dragging her along, but Claudia was still young enough to think Myka was cool, and Leena was sweet to everyone. Artie let her be, but she could tell he relaxed a little when she stopped being so standoffish with the group.

She relaxed too. It was nice not having to constantly think up lies and excuses. She still stayed quiet when she was around the others, but no one seemed to mind. They just seemed happy she was there, which was another thing that confused her. _Why_ did they want her around? What did she contribute? They still didn’t know much about her. But no matter how much she questioned it, no answers were forthcoming. She finally gave up trying to understand the ways of normal people and just accepted that she didn’t have to work so hard to keep her distance.

It never occurred to her to wonder why it had had been difficult to do so in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to reiterate that Myka is not a psychopath. In a world without the homophobia of our own world, internalized homophobia is replaced with the idea that if you don’t have a soulmate, you are a psychopath. This is untrue, but Myka has bought into it because she believes in rules and delineations. Helena will help her understand the truth, but it will take time. Hope you’re enjoying this so far. :)


	2. Chapter 2

From the moment Helena had left her childhood home, she’d been careful. So very careful. She’d joined the Wayward community—they never called themselves the Soulless, it was demeaning and wrong—as soon as she’d found out that it existed, her inventions and hacking skills a boon to those who had to find ways to hide in plain sight.

So, the irony wasn’t lost on her when, despite her careful steps over the years, she ran straight—literally—into her brother near her current apartment.

“So sorry, par– Oh my God, _Helena_?”

Helena straightened from her stumble to see the last face she had ever expected to see again. What was Charles doing in Chicago, and how had she managed, in a world of seven billion people, to run straight into him?

She inhaled deeply, her breath knocked out by more than just the physical run-in. “Charles.”

“Where have you– Why did y– _Helena_?” His expression was both astounded and annoyed, as only Charles could manage.

She could run. She knew the city far better than he did. But now that he knew she was alive, the family wouldn’t give up so easily on finding her. Plus, Chicago was where she’d lived with Christina, and she wasn’t ready to move away from where those memories had been created. Better to offer an excuse and an olive branch.

“Umm, tea?” she offered, her mind already working on a reason she had been in hiding all these years.

Charles recovered from his shock and confusion enough that his usual haughty expression was back on his face. “I’m late for a meeting. I should–” He cut himself at Helena’s raised eyebrow. “But I suppose _family_ takes precedence,” he finished primly.

By the time Charles had called off his meeting and they’d settled in at Helena’s favorite tea shop, she had a plan in place. She laid a story of never feeling appreciated growing up, her fear that she couldn’t go into engineering with her family’s expectations of heirs and social obligations. Given that she had been a recalcitrant and curious child and Charles a dismissive brother, it lent her story weight, and Charles was easily swayed. She put off his (reluctant) offer to fly her back to England to see the family, though she couldn’t get him to promise not to tell their parents. He was his usual arsehole self, but when he left town two days later, she managed to avoid promising future contact.

But she knew it was only a matter of time. She would have to see her parents eventually, and there would be questions about her life, her mate, her mark. She could change her identity again, but the thought of constantly looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life sounded almost as bad as being shipped off to a Soulless home.

It looked like she would have to say goodbye to her life as Emily Lake and take up the mantle of Helena George Wells once more. But this time with a new addition.

***

It took seven months for her Wayward team to come up with a tattoo that would mimic a soulmark well enough to pass any scans a high-tech soulmark scanner could throw at it. For hundreds of years, traditional tattoos had works well enough to pass scrutiny. Before the age of computers and databases, the likelihood of two soulmates meeting was at least a little lower, so the Soulless weren’t as scrutinized. But with the advent of modern technology and Big Brother, few could get away with it anymore. Most dropped out of society or found ways to skirt social standards and avoid being caught. A few joined religious groups that didn’t believe technology should be used to find a soulmate.

But Helena believed markless people shouldn’t have to live such hard lives. They deserved to stand equally with the rest of humanity. They weren’t monsters. They weren’t even soulless, as most people believed. Well, Helena didn’t believe in souls per se anyway, but she knew she wasn’t a psychopath, and neither were her friends. Just because they loved differently didn’t make them freaks that should be cast aside or locked away.

Now that her tattoo process had been perfected, she needed someone to act as her mate. She’d thought it’d be easy enough. She just needed someone she didn’t hate with whom she could play house, show off to her family, then go back to her life. But in her circle of friends and acquaintances, no one was willing to chance being caught if the tattoo was somehow found out as a fake. Not to mention, who wanted to gain a family of rich pricks for no good reason, even if they’d be kept at a distance? They were all satisfied with their lives. They liked not being saddled to mates. Helena couldn’t say she blamed them.


	3. Chapter 3

Myka hadn’t even been looking for any sort of underground Soulless society. But something she said must have put up a red flag, because before she knew it, a casual acquaintance was giving her a password to get her into a secret forum. There was a little thrill the first few times she logged in. Breaking the rules, however secretly, felt good. After realizing what she was as a teen, she learned that continuing to follow the rules would serve her well, they’d make her seem more normal, if a little too buttoned up and controlling. She could handle being thought of as cold or odd, as long as she was still considered human.

Not much came of her entrance into the secret society that called themselves the Waywards. At least for the first few months. It was nice chatting with people who were like her, but she didn’t consider any of them friends. Just people with whom she had something in common. Somehow, she felt more comfortable around the Warehouse gang, even if she was keeping a part of herself hidden from them. Claudia knew her favorite books, Leena could tell when she needed to bring in her famous soup that always turned her bad mood around, Pete’s terrible jokes always got her to crack a smile. She was even fond—in so much as a psychopath could be—of Artie’s grumbling.

For the first time in years, Myka didn’t feel like a complete outcast. She did wish she didn’t have her one, rather large, secret that she had to keep from them. Some days she thought they wouldn’t hate her for it. But even people who didn’t hate her could turn her in—for the good of society, of course. For her _own_ good. So she kept mum, joined them for karaoke and burgers, and only told her secret to the people she chatted online with in the dark of her room, behind a VPN and a screen name that gave away no details of her real life.

This went on until she’d been at the Warehouse for almost a year. It was the longest she’d held one job, and even she could admit it was the most comfortable she’d felt since the age of twelve. Psychopaths couldn’t be happy, but they could be pleased, couldn’t they? Yes, she felt pleased. Pleased that her life was easy, that her job wasn’t terrible, and that she wasn’t forced to keep a secret just to herself. She’d have to leave the Warehouse eventually, when she didn’t produce a soulmate in the usual amount of time, but for now, she’d enjoy a little comfort. She deserved it after years of staunchly sticking to society’s rules.

She logged into her usual Wayward site one evening after work, just as she did every three or four days. She scrolled through her favorite forums, but there weren’t many new updates, so she checked to see what new ones had popped up. One subject line caught her eye: “New tattoo that will pass the scanners?!?” She clicked to open the discussion. It looked to be just rumors, people relating things they heard third hand, completely unsubstantiated and not to be trusted. She backed out without adding a post.

But the idea stayed with her over the next few weeks, finally getting the better of her so that she decided she had to further look into it. A few discreet questions and her own research skills finally landed her on someone who knew more about it, and she finally found the person who had invented the new tattoo process, a person called H.G.

Myka put off getting in touch with this person for several weeks, paranoid as always that it was a trap. She had yet to trust anyone on the site with any of her personal information. The whole thing could be an elaborate set up to catch Soulless. It wasn’t illegal to be one, but there were enough far right individuals who thought the evil Soulless should be put away for the good of society. She wouldn’t put it past them to do something like this.

But when her mother mentioned her still-single status during Thanksgiving for the third year in a row, Myka finally gave in and sent H.G. a DM. She spent a week crafting the perfect message to seem interested but not desperate.

H.G. replied within twenty-four hours. They spent another few weeks conversing via the site—no personal information shared, just the facts of H.G.’s research and results. Except that H.G. left out one relevant piece of information.

**975682:** What you mean, it hasn’t been tested?

**H.G.:** I mean it hasn’t been tested. Not in real life, at least. We’ve tested it with our own scanners, but no one has volunteered to be the guinea pig yet for the wider public.

**975682:** Why not?

**H.G.:** Why risk being caught when they’re happy with their lives as is?

**975682:** Then why create it in the first place?

**H.G.:** For people like you who want to meet society’s ridiculous standards.

**975682:** Who says I want that?

**H.G.:** Darling, you’ve been grilling me for weeks, but it’s obvious you don’t have a science background. You’re intelligent, yes, but you aren’t asking for scientific purposes.

**975682:** You don’t know a thing about me.

**H.G.:** You’re under the age of thirty-five, but probably not by much, you have a background in literature, you travel for work, and you identify as female.

**975682:** …

**975682:** Why do you say that?

**H.G.:** I can’t give all my secrets away, darling. But don’t worry. I don’t know much else. Your identity is safe.

**975682:** …

**H.G.:** So what do you say? Will you do it?

**975682:** Do what?

**H.G.:** Help me test it.

**975682:** I can’t trust you.

**H.G.:** Then why did you contact me to begin with?

Myka closed the tab, wiped her browser’s history, and shut her computer down without replying. H.G. was insane if they thought Myka would trust her life, her _freedom_, to some unknown person who could be attempting to trap her.

She didn’t log back in for almost a month, but their conversations never truly left her. She’d think of them while inventorying at the Warehouse, while eating out with the others after work, while reading in the evenings.

Then her mom called. Dad was sick. Stage three pancreatic cancer. She might have distanced herself from her family, but she still gave the appearance of a loving daughter when possible. There was no way she could stay away from the family during Dad’s (possibly) final months. And though the illness would take up most of their discussions, there was a good chance they’d would want to talk about her lack of soulmate. And the less stress she could give them (or herself), the better.

So, she bit the bullet.

**975682:** I’ll do it.

**H.G.:** Hello, stranger. I thought you’d left me forever.

**975682:** I don’t trust you, but I don’t have a choice at this point.

**H.G.:** I know what I’m doing. I won’t get you caught.

**975682:** That’s not that part I don’t trust.

**H.G.:** Ah. You think I’m one of those fundamentalists trying to trick the Soulless in order to lock them away. I’m not. I’m legit. I’ve been fighting those bastards almost my entire life.

**975682:** I can’t know that for sure. But as I said, I don’t have a choice.

**H.G.:** And why is that?

**975682:** My dad is dying. And as you pointed out last time we spoke, I’m near 35. It’s getting harder to excuse away my lack of a soulmate.

**H.G.:** Family gets to the best of us.

**975682:** Even you?

**H.G.:** For a long time, I thought I was free of that. Turns out I was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

Finally! Someone willing to test the system. Helena had got her hands on the latest scanners in use, but who knew if there wasn’t some new tech coming out soon. The scanners did more than just scan the mark into the system so it could find a match, it also took biometric information, checking for ink and other indicators the mark was fake. Helena’s team had worked tirelessly for months ensuring their ink both appeared organic and was long-lasting. The latter couldn’t be tested in such a short time, but they knew it would last at least a few months. The hope for now was that, since they were scanning the fake marks themselves, hacking into the database, and making it look like a person had been scanned years before, no one else would ever actually have a need to scan it. But the possibility existed, which was why the ink had to work.

A week after 975682 agreed to be the guinea pig, it worked out that they would be in Chicago for work. They still hadn’t given any personal information to Helena, but she wasn’t bothered by that. Waywards were paranoid with good reason.

The plan was to meet at a location chosen by 975682, with a selfie sent by text as they arrived. Ready to jump through any hoops necessary, Helena did exactly as asked.

She hadn’t yet brought up the idea of them getting the same tattoo and becoming fake soulmates, but she hoped 975682 was amenable. Though they had shared practically no personal information, she liked them. They were sharp, thoughtful, and even a little funny, when they relaxed a little. Gender didn’t matter to her. And even if it had, it was going to be a business arrangement, sex wouldn’t ever come up anyway. Not that sex was really her thing. She’d tried it out a few times, but it only confirmed what she’d already suspected. The only time she’d been happy with the experience was when it had given her Christina. But in the end, even that hadn’t turned out well.

She tore her thoughts away from unhappy memories and scanned the park, waiting for her phone to buzz with a message from 975682. They were eight minutes late already. Some hemming and hawing was to be expected, though. She wasn’t worried yet.

On her next scan, her phone vibrated in her hand. She held it up to see an awkward selfie of a woman with dark, curly hair and a serious expression. Pretty. Her own selfie already taken, she sent it to 975682 with the message, _Don’t look for me. I’m coming to you. Go along with whatever I say. Delete this message and the one you sent me_.

Following her own instructions, she tucked her phone into the strap on her arm, and started jogging to where she saw curly, dark hair further down the path. Just in case surveillance could be used to verify their story (should 975682 go along with the soulmates act), Helena wanted to keep details as realistic as possible.

She fiddled with her watch as she jogged, giving her a good reason to not see another person on the path and allow them to run into each other.

“Oh, my God. I am so sorry! I’ve got this new watch and, well, I guess I shouldn’t try to fiddle with it while running. Are you okay?”

The other woman looked a little thrown but recovered when Helena gave her a discreet eyebrow raise.

“Oh, yeah. You weren’t going too fast. I’m fine.”

“Good! I feel terrible, though. Can I buy you a coffee?”

“Umm, yeah. Sure. That would be … nice?”

Helena gave her a hundred-watt smile. “Lovely. I’m Helena, by the way.”

The woman was staring at her in confusion, obviously not understanding where this was going, but she continued to play along. “Myka.”

Finally, a name. “Follow me, Myka. I know a great place just down the street.”

***

Myka was completely lost. She’d expected a furtive meeting in the park, with her following H.G. to some discreet location for a real conversation, but instead she was trailing a beautiful woman down the street to a café. Perhaps they needed a cover for meeting, but surely the offer of coffee was going overboard. Still, she did as asked and followed H.G.—no, her name was Helena—through the door with no protestations. Helena ordered a tea for herself, then cocked her head at Myka, whose brain was just enough online to give an order for a black coffee.

They settled into their seats, and Helena flashed her another wide smile. “I wish I could say this was the first time I’d bumped into someone while running, but it’s not. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a klutz.” She gave a self-deprecating shrug.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Myka said, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. January in Chicago was _cold_. Not that it was any warmer in South Dakota.

“Do you run?”

“Um. Yeah, I do.”

“Then you know how it goes. You look away at a pretty bird, and all of a sudden you’re up close and personal with a completely stranger.”

Actually, she didn’t know that. She was very careful when she ran, just as she was careful in everything she did. _Keep my head down, don’t get noticed._ That mantra had served her well most of her life. Which again made her question why she was trying this hair-brained scheme in the first place. But she straightened her spine, took a breath, and finally smiled at the woman across from her, ready to play her part if it meant losing the stress that had dogged her every step for twenty years.

***

Dear God, Myka was uptight. Helena had expected it to an extent, given all the paranoia she’d noticed during their online conversations, but real-life Myka seemed even worse than her online self. Still, she was here, and she was trying, Helena could see that. After having a completely harmless conversation at the café, Helena had invited her to her apartment so they could finally talk details. To the outside world, it would look like Helena had invited Myka back to hers for more than just a talk. She’d tried to flirt just to enough to show interest, but not enough to make Myka uncomfortable. Well, _more _uncomfortable, if that was possible.

She made some chamomile tea to give Myka time for an internal pep talk if need be, then brought the two mugs over to the sofa, nodding for the other woman to join her. Myka sat and took the mug handed to her, curling her fingers around it the way she had her coffee when they’d been at the café.

“Can we talk now?” She blurted, looking as if she’d held that in for far too long.

“Of course, darling. Sorry for the runaround. I’ll explain my reasons in a moment. But first, I want to hear it straight from you. Are you ready to do this? Really?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Myka spat out, frown marring her brow.

“You can still back out.”

With a shake of her head, she continued. “No. I want to do this. I _have_ to.”

“Very well. There are two options for your cover story.”

“Cover story?”

“Of course. We can’t give you a tattoo and then just have you never meet your soulmate. Not with today’s technology.”

“They could be in a less developed country, one that doesn’t use the database, or one of those religious groups that doesn’t believe in technology.”

Helena shook her head. “That doesn’t happen. Soulmate pairs always live in places where they can meet. We might not know what exactly causes the mark, but we know it takes into account more than just compatibility, but also likelihood of meeting. Even those that die before meeting their soulmate are extremely rare. Just … the universe or whatever _knows_, and soulmates are assigned accordingly.”

Myka was chewing her lip. “So, I have to come up with a soulmate.”

Helena shrugged. “That’s definitely the easiest way. The other option would be to hack into the database and create fake records for a person who supposedly died before you met, but then you run into the problem of possibly needing to verify that that person really existed, if there’s an enquiry.”

“What’s the other option?” Myka asked, sounding weary.

“Find someone willing to pretend to be your soulmate. They’d have to get a matching tattoo, do a witnessed bonding ceremony, and move in with you.”

“That’s the _easy_ option?”

“It would only require you to come up with a single person, rather than a slew of people who would supposedly have known your dead mate.”

“Right.” Myka slouched back on the sofa, the first time Helena had seen her spine anything other than ramrod straight. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, but she kept her mouth shut and let the other woman process. It _was_ a lot to take in at once.

A few minutes later, Myka finally spoke. “How do I find someone willing to go through a farce?”

“A fake soulmate?” Helena clarified.

Myka nodded. Her back was straight again, but her hands were clenched together, knuckles white.

“Well,” Helena began, trying to make her words as gentle as possible. The last thing she needed was to scare off her potential partner in crime. “I happen to be looking for someone to fill the same role.”

Myka’s eyes widened. “You?”

“You seem surprised.”

“You don’t seem the type to comply with social standards.”

Helena felt a corner of her mouth tick up. “I’m not. Usually. But as I noted recently, I’ve got family pressures as well. Plus, someone needs to test this out. I created it, I should be the one to test it.”

“But you can’t do it alone …” Myka concluded, eyes cast down in thought.

“Unfortunately, no.”

The air hung heavy as Helena waited for Myka’s answer.

Long moments later, Myka pulled her hands apart, somehow straightened her back even further, and took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”


	5. Chapter 5

The next steps were to have the tattoos designed, inked, and put into the database, with some creative hacking to make it look like Myka’s had been in the system longer than it had. Helena’s was safe being new, given that her family knew she’d been hiding from them, and therefore would not have been registered. On top of that, she’d decided to go into an actual registration office to confirm she could pass their scans as well. She’d give her story of having run away as a teen and only now putting her mark into the system because she thought she’d found her match. This would also test if the system would match their tattoos.

They sat for their tattoos the day after they first met in person, because Myka needed to head back to South Dakota before Artie started wondering what was taking her so long to pick up a few antiques. They’d have to wait for the tattoos to heal before they could scan Myka’s and enter it into the system.

Helena was a little surprised when Myka chose to have hers placed just under her breast, but Myka had turned red and muttered, “I told Mom it was in an embarrassing spot to keep her from seeing it,” when Helena had raised an eyebrow. And despite the sensitivity of the ribs, the woman barely flinched during the process. Helena’s respect for her went up another notch.

They didn’t talk much during the rest of Myka’s stay, other than planning their next steps. Helena could tell she was still uncomfortable with the whole idea, and so she let her take lead on their interactions. With plans to have one of Helena’s team meet with Myka to scan her tattoo once it healed, they parted, not knowing each other much better than they had before they’d met.

Helena tried to not let that thought bother her. It did anyway.

***

Myka lay on her bed a few weeks later, shirt pulled up so she could look at her new “soulmark” yet again, as she had been doing at every opportunity since she’d been inked. She’d been scanned and added to the database just the day before, and no flags had been raised, so they had to assume the system accepted her mark as real. Now they had to wait for Helena to get scanned by an actual office so that they could be “matched.” Things could still go wrong. The tattoos might not have been done well enough to match. Or the official scanners might have been upgraded to look for something the Wayward team didn’t know about it. Or the system could flag Myka when they were matched up, realizing that her records were fake. Even though her part was done, she was still terrified it could all go wrong. She didn’t want to be locked up for the rest of her life in some home with mental patients. And even if she ended up at one of the nicer ones specifically for the Soulless, her life would no longer be hers. She’d be stuck in daily group therapy, unable to eat anything that couldn’t be cut with a spoon. No shoelaces. Probably no books. No karaoke nights. No going over to Leena’s for pizza and movies. No hunting down interesting antiques.

Feeling her heartrate and breathing go up, Myka yanked her shirt back over the mark and forced deep breaths. It was going to be fine. Helena was confident they could scam the system. She wouldn’t be testing this herself if she wasn’t. It would work. It had to.

***

The call came three days later, while she was on her lunch break. She shushed Pete and Claudia, who were geeking out over something that had just come into the shop.

“Hello?” It was a Chicago area code number. That had to be them, right? Unless it was a furtive call from Helena telling her to run. She took a deep breath and waited.

“Hi!” said a chipper, young-sounding man. “Can I speak to Myka, please?”

“That’s me,” Myka replied.

“Great. This is Will with the Soulmate Registration Office. Can you please verify your full name and date of birth?”

She gave the necessary information.

“Awesome.” God, the man was entirely too happy. It had better be good news. “I’m happy to inform you that you’ve been matched!”

Thank God. “Oh. Good? Um, great.”

“Ohh, come on, sound a little more excited! It’s your _soulmate_.”

“Shock?”

“I guess that makes sense. You’ve had to wait a while for this, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

“Well wait no longer! You should be receiving the information in your email any minute now. Would you like to schedule a chaperoned visit with us?”

“No thanks. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Wonderful! I’ll let you get to it then. Please call or email if you have any questions or concerns. Good luck and have a great day!”

“Um, same to you.”

Keeping her face calm, she ended the call and selected the email icon on her phone. She’d need to make a big deal of it with her coworkers in a minute, but she had to make sure first. Was there any chance she’d been matched with someone else? Surely not. The artist who had created the design had studied soulmarks for years. She knew how to make it unique enough not to ping the system.

She found the email and opened it, holding her breath until she saw the name Helena George Wells. She huffed and sagged into her chair, her head only held up by her hand.

“Mykes? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Claudia chimed in after Pete. “You look a little green around the gills.”

Myka got her face arranged in what she hoped was an appropriate look, then removed her hand. “I’ve been matched.”

Claudia whooped, and Pete loped over to bearhug her. “Wow. Finally. God, what a wait!” He was practically yelling in her ear, but she let him have his moment. “I wonder if they grew up in one of those religious groups that doesn’t believe in using technology to find soulmates. I went to school with a few of those kids. One got registered as soon as he turned eighteen. Knew his parents were loco. Not sure about the others, though.”

“Well, actually,” Myka began. They’d worked out a believable story, just in case they’d been seen together in Chicago. “We met in Chicago when I was there last month. She ran away from home before her mark came in, and then was afraid to get scanned, in case her family could find her through that somehow. Then we met and realized we had the same mark. She’d made up with her family by then, so she got scanned just to be sure we were a match.” She shrugged.

“Whoa. Why didn’t you tell us?” Claudia asked.

“Oh, you know. I didn’t want to say anything until we knew for sure. I’ve been waiting so long …”

Claudia nodded. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever, and I’m only twenty.” Then she smiled and clutched Myka’s arm. “Gah! I’m so excited for you! So, what now? Are you officially dating? Is she going to move here? Are you going to move there?” Her face fell at the latter thought.

“Nothing drastic yet. We want to take it slow, get to know each other first.”

“That sounds like our Myka,” Pete chimed in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Myka let them continue to chatter. She’d known there was no turning back after she’d been put in the system, but it was only now feeling real. She’d announced she had a soulmate. People knew.

Now she had to figure out how to tell her parents.


	6. Chapter 6

Helena waited for her luggage to appear on the carousel. The Colorado Springs airport was tiny, and she wouldn’t have any difficulty spotting her luggage or her fake mate. It had been over two months since she’d met Myka in Chicago, and since then, they’d kept their interactions to email and the occasional Skype call for verisimilitude. Now it was time to meet the parents.

She spotted her bag and pulled it off the carousel. She checked her phone to see if she had a text from Myka yet, but her phone was clear. They’d planned for Myka to pick her up at the airport, but there was no sign of her anywhere. A few minutes later, Myka rushed through the sliding doors Helena was standing near. She looked around frantically before her eyes landed on Helena.

“God, so sorry. Doctor’s meeting ran late, and it wasn’t like I could walk out in the middle of the discussion.”

“It’s fine,” Helena soothed. “How is he?”

Myka wrapped her arms around her middle. “It’s not stage four yet, but it also hasn’t shrunk much. At least he’s feeling better since his chemo ended, but they’re going to start another round in a month.”

Helena ached to give her a hug but didn’t want to spook her. She hadn’t loosened up much despite their months of talking. Not surprising, given her habit of turning the least bit personal conversation back to facts. It was getting frustrating waiting for Myka to open up. What little Helena did know, she liked, and she wanted to know more. She wanted them to be friends

“Are you sure you want to do this now?”

Myka scrunched up her nose. “Do what?”

“Tell them about me, about us. Your family has more important things to concentrate on.”

“No, it’ll never been a good time. I only visit when we’ve got serious family things to discuss. Plus, our news will give them something to distract them. They could use that right now.”

Helena wanted to smooth the wrinkles from her brow. She wanted to comfort this woman who, despite trying her damnedest to not, was becoming someone she cared about. It had been a long time since Helena had cared about someone. Not since Christina. But she’d recently realized she wanted more than a business arrangement out of this, and she’d vowed to make this bond as real as it could be, despite the fake marks they both wore. Now she just needed to convince Myka to do the same. But not now. Now she’d play the loving soulmate, she’d impress her future bond family, she’d offer whatever comfort Myka would allow.

“Ready to go?” Myka asked, completely unaware of Helena’s anguished thoughts.

She pasted on a smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

***

“We’re here!” Myka called as she opened the front door to her parents’ home above the bookstore.

Her stomach had been in knots all day, worrying how the meeting would go. All they knew is that a friend was coming to stay. She wished she had just told her family about Helena over the phone, or at least before the woman in question had arrived. She could have done so, but when Helena had offered to come, she’d agreed in a moment of weakness. The idea that she wouldn’t have to deal with her family alone was buoying. Before the offer, she’d been considering not even making the trip herself. But it was too late now. They were here. And she was about to do the one thing she hadn’t thought was possible for the last 20 years.

“Kitchen!” called her mom. Myka indicated that Helena could leave her luggage in the living area to be put away later, then led her toward the kitchen. Mom was washing potatoes, Tracy was chopping vegetables, and Dad sat at the table with a book. Tracy’s husband, Kevin, was nowhere to be seen. Dad looked up briefly from his book, then went back to it, but Mom and Tracy both turned to look at the new arrivals.

“Everything go okay?” Mom asked, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Mhhmm. Where’s Kevin?”

Tracy gave a strained smile. “Work emergency.”

“On a Friday afternoon?”

Tracy liked to pretend they had the perfect relationship, but Kevin was mostly absent, and she always seemed to be upset with him. Myka wondered again how having a soulmate was better than just having a friend you got along with really well. She was beginning to think her fake relationship was going to be far better than a real bonded one. She and Helena had a common goal but otherwise left each other alone to live their respective lives, no expectations for more.

“Well,” she continued. “I guess we’ll just have to tell him later.”

“Tell him what?” asked Mom, excitement flashing across her face as she eyed Helena.

Myka straightened and took a deep breath. “Everyone, this is Helena, my soulmate.”

Mom clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Dad’s eyes widened as he looked up from his book. Tracy, predictably, just raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mom gasped, heading to where the two of them stood in the door to the kitchen. Myka braced for a hug, patting her mom’s back as she was enveloped. “Finally,” Mom whispered in her ear as she squeezed her.

Myka caught Helena smirking and widened her eyes in a “help me” gesture. Helena’s grin grew, and she winked but didn’t move to help her. Rude. Weren’t soulmates supposed to have each other’s backs?

“Okay, Mom,” she finally said, trying to extricate herself from the tight embrace. “I can’t breathe.”

Mom finally pulled away, but only far enough to clasp Myka’s face in her hands. “Sorry. I’m just so happy for you.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Myka said with a tight smile.

Mom turned to Helena and held out her hand. “I’m Jeannie.”

“Helena Wells. A pleasure.”

As they shook hands, Mom’s smile widened. “Oh, you’re British. Do you hear that, Warren? Myka’s soulmate is British.”

“Mhm,” Dad hummed gruffly. He started to get up, but Helena hurried over. “What are you reading?” she asked, sitting down next to him and craning her head to see the cover.

“Working on ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ now.”

“Oh!” Helena began with a Cheshire smile. “I reckon Myka got her love of reading from you, then. I adore Poe! What’s your favorite?”

“‘The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.’”

“Lovely. I do like the addition of science in that one compared to his usual fantastical oeuvre,” Helena replied. “I’d have to say ‘Ligeia’ is my favorite, though ‘Masque of the Red Death’ is a close second.”

Dad’s expression relaxed as he found someone to discuss his love of literature with. It was almost the only thing he’d talk to Myka about. Some days she thought the only reason she’d developed an interest in literature was to please him.

Before she could add her own opinion, Mom pulled her over to the counter to chat while she continued working on the potatoes.

“So,” she began conspiratorially. “Why is this the first we’re hearing about Helena? How did you meet? How long have you been together?”

Myka gave the same story she’d given her coworkers about them meeting in Chicago.

“So that’s why you’ve had to wait so long? She wasn’t in the system?”

“Yup.” She tried hard to keep her face even. She was used to lying after all these years. She looked over to see that Helena had joined Tracy in chopping while she kept a conversation on Poe going with Dad. Myka had always prided herself on her ability to playact the role of a normal person, but Helena was putting her to shame. She almost had Myka fooled. Her smile was wide and friendly, and she seemed genuinely interested in what the family had to say.

She continued to impress everyone through dinner and drinks after, and she even kept her friendly expression after Myka’s parents went to bed and Tracy headed home.

“I was a little worried, after the way you’d talked about them, but your family isn’t too bad.”

Myka raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

Helena scoffed. “Okay, so your dad is a little gruff and Tracy could drop the snooty attitude, but they’re far easier to deal with than my family is. At least they appear to care about your life.” Her brow furrowed as if remembering conversations with her own family.

“Have you talked to anyone since you ran into your brother?”

Helena shook her head. “I’ve had a couple of short emails from him, but he seems to be keeping everyone else away. They will want to know about you eventually, though. Can I tell them?”

“I suppose so. That’s the reason we’re doing this, isn’t it?”

“Tu as raison, mon ami.”

“Tu parles français ?”

Helena grinned. “Ah oui ! Toi aussi ?”

“Malheureusment, juste un petit peu.”

“What other hidden depths do you have, Myka Bering?” asked Helena, squinting thoughtfully at her.

Myka shrugged. “I’m pretty simple.” She looked at the clock. “And tired. I should head to bed.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take the other bedroom?” Helena asked, as they headed for Myka’s old room.

“No thanks. Less suspicious if we just share. As long as you don’t kick,” Myka added with a smirk and a side look at Helena.

Helena’s grin bloomed, and she nudged Myka's shoulder. “Are you teasing me, Myka Bering?”

Myka rubbed the back of her neck, uncomfortable now that it had been called out. “I’m not always serious.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And no, I don’t kick. As cold as it is tonight, though, I might gravitate toward your heat.”

She wasn’t sure what to do with that. She’d shared beds as a kid, mostly with Tracy, but a couple of times during sleepovers as well, before she’d stopped making friends. And she’d of course _slept with_ a few people during and after college, but she’d never stayed after she got what she wanted. Why bother, when she couldn’t make a real connection with people and was too tired to pretend? Plus, most people shied away from lasting relationships that weren’t with their soulmate. But she didn’t mind sharing a bed just for sleeping. It’s not like she was worried that Helena would come onto her. Theirs was a business arrangement.

Still, it was odd having to adjust to their relationship. It wasn’t like the ones she had with her family or her coworkers, though much more like the latter than the former. There was a comfort to it that she didn’t have with her family. Myka appreciated not having to watch her every move, while Helena apparently preferred to keep up the normal-person act at all times. But she wasn’t sure why Helena pretended to care when it was just the two of them. Perhaps she had a harder time switching between the two and found it easier to act the same no matter who she was around.

It didn’t matter. Helena was free to do whatever she wanted. Because Myka was indebted to her for their arrangement, she wasn’t about to tell her how to act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give Myka just a bit of her real background, so I dropped in some French here. My own skills are pretty elementary, so hopefully I got it right! In case you didn’t catch what they were saying:
> 
> Tu as raison, mon ami. = You’re right, my friend.  
Tu parles français ? = You speak French?  
Ah oui ! Toi aussi ? = Ah, yes! You too?  
Malheureusment, juste un petit peu. = Sadly, just a little bit.


	7. Chapter 7

Helena lay in bed the next morning, going over the events since she’d arrived in Colorado Springs. She’d been ready to deal with terrible people, but Myka’s family seemed nice enough. Still, she did understand why Myka might keep her distance. It was hard hiding your true self from the people who loved you and wanted to be a part of your life. If Helena hadn’t run away, and if her family had been at all close, she might have employed similar means to keep them from knowing what she was. All the same, something niggled at the back of her mind when she saw the Bering family interact. There was something off about how Myka dealt with her family, and she couldn’t figure it out.

She looked over at the woman in question, still asleep, the hair flung over her face rustling softly every time she breathed out. It was nice seeing Myka without her barriers for once. Sharing a bed with someone was odd. Everyone always thought about the romantic or sexual bits of bedsharing, but sharing with someone who was an acquaintance or friend also had an intimacy that might not be there during waking hours. You had to trust someone to share a bed with them. Not with just the implicit promise not to harm, but also to deal with the weirdness of the unconscious human body—the drooling, the snoring, the passing of gas, the flinging of limbs. If you shared a bed with someone, you saw them at their weirdest, their most undisguised. She was glad Myka at least felt comfortable enough with her to share a bed. That said something about how well this relationship would work, didn’t it? They could have easily come up with an excuse to not share a bed, but Myka had glossed over it as if it was nothing. She’d surprised Helena with that, and with many other things. She was a delightful mystery, one Helena realized she wanted to figure out. But she didn’t mind taking her time. Anything worth knowing was worth the effort to understand it.

Myka stirred, and Helena leaned back against the headboard and waited. After a few minutes, Myka groaned. “Whuh time?” she asked, making Helena smile.

“A little after eight,” Helena replied.

“Ugghhhnn.”

“You don’t need to get up if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Myka began, shoving her hair off her face and rubbing her eyes. “I promised to watch the shop this morning. Dad’s usual Saturday help has a thing.” She waved her hand vaguely. Then she sat up in a rush. “Oh shit. I forgot you were here. I can’t just leave you on your own.” She frowned.

Then it hit Helena what was off when Myka was around her family. She kept her face completely neutral except when very obviously faking a reaction. It was nothing like the frown she was giving now, which seemed full of actual emotion. No, when she was around her family, her smiles and frowns were as fake as the soulmark she wore. It was more than her feeling uncomfortable or awkwardly dealing with her family. It was her pretending to have a reaction at all. But why? Even during the few times they’d talked via Skype, she’d shown at least some reactions, even if they were limited. Knowing now was not the time to be thinking about this, Helena pushed it to the back of her mind and refocused on the conversation.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can hang out with your parents.”

“You do not want to do that,” Myka replied. “Dad was in a good mood yesterday, but that’s not likely to happen again today.” She chewed her lip for a moment in thought. They’d only made a brief pass through the store on their way up to her parents’ apartment above. “We’re around a lot of other shops and restaurants here. You can come downstairs with me for a while, and then wander around Old Colorado City until I’m done.”

“I’d love to hang out at the shop! Aww, the bookstore that turned little Myka into a bookworm. That will be lovely.”

Myka looked unconvinced, but she just shrugged. “If you want.”

***

“Um, thanks. For coming. I think it did them good, knowing that I’m not alone now. I know Mom worries. Even Dad seems more relaxed than I’ve seen him in a while. I know you didn’t have to come, so. Yeah. Thanks.”

Myka hitched her backpack up on her shoulder and looked around the terminal while they waited for their flights. Helena stifled a smile. She was kind of adorable when she was awkward.

“It’s what soulmates do.”

“But we’re not …”

“But we are, in a way. In any case, I was happy to come, darling.” The PA blared to life, announcing Helena’s flight. “That’s me, then.”

Myka nodding, looking at the ground. “Have a safe flight.”

“You too. And, Myka?”

She looked up finally.

“Thanks for sharing this with me. I think we’re going to be fine.”

Myka frowned but nodded again. It might spook her, but Helena just had to give the poor woman a hug. She looked so lost and small. She leaned in and put her arms around her. “Any time you need me, just give me a call, okay?”

Myka froze but didn’t pull away. After a few moments, she let out the breath she was holding. “Okay.”

Helena pulled away enough to move her hands up to cup Myka’s face, then she leaned in again and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Goodbye, Myka.”

Still frowning, Myka mumbled a “bye” and pulled away.

Helena still didn’t have her figured out, but little by little, she hoped she’d get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year was my first time watching W13 since I myself moved to Colorado Springs. I laughed when I saw the chyron of the location of the bookshop flash across the screen. I’m assuming they mean Old Colorado City, which is a section of Colorado Springs, and that they got it wrong by saying just “Colorado City” (which, if I remember, is a town in south TX? And maybe another one near Pueblo, CO?). In any case, the one in Colorado Springs is where I’m putting the bookshop because that area is filled with shops and could reasonably have an apartment above it.
> 
> Also, I finally got in a trope inversion for bedsharing! I guess that means I’ve got three trope inversions in this fic, rather than two… While I do love a good bedsharing fic, as someone who does not want anyone touching me while I sleep, I’m always confused as to how anyone can be comfy all twisted up with someone, so I wanted to have them share a bed here with zero cuddling. I hope it’s not too disappointing for you. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

They kept in regular but brief touch over the next few months. Usually just emails or texts, with the occasional Skype call. Myka worked, visited her family twice more, went out with her coworkers, read. Life as usual.

She had worried that having a soulmate, however fake she might be, would cause a great upheaval to her life, but it was mostly like having a long-distance coworker. She felt as comfortable with Helena as she did the everyone at the Warehouse, and they didn’t impose on each other’s personal lives, except for the rare acknowledgement of future visits with family and their actual bonding ceremony, which they’d scheduled for late spring, a date that arrived far too quickly.

Myka would have happily forgone anything formal, but Mom had been adamant that at least family would attend, and then when Pete found out, he’d half invited himself and the Warehouse crew. Only Helena’s brother would be attending from her family, as well as a few of her own acquaintances. In concession to Dad’s precarious health, they chose to have it in the Springs at a park in Old Colorado City.

But before they could have the ceremony, they apparently needed to pre-celebrate, as Claudia had taken to calling it once she found out that Myka hadn’t planned any sort of party. So the night before the ceremony found Myka, Helena, Claudia, Leena, Pete, and two of Helena’s friends—Ariana and Billy—in the hotel suite the younger Warehouse crew was bunking down in (Artie and his mate Vanessa had opted for their own separate room and were currently having dinner with Myka’s parents) with a stack of board games, a few bottles of alcohol and soda, and several pizzas. It was the first social night Myka had been to—apart from the smaller Warehouse gatherings—in more years than she could remember. She was a little apprehensive she would show her hand in a setting that wasn’t a dinner or movie night where she could stay mostly silent, but when she first arrived at the suite, only Pete and Claudia were there, so she was able to gradually warm up as everyone else trickled in. Leena arrived with food halfway through a round of Cards Against Humanity, which was going much more smoothly than Myka had expected, her ability to mimic humor much improved after over a year of having Pete around. By the time Helena and her friends arrived, Myka was feeling pretty comfortable, and she thought the evening would go well.

***

The suite door opened to loud voices that had Helena wondering if she was in the right place. The woman who opened the door had lightish brown skin, a halo of curls, and a sweet smile. “We were just wondering when you guys would show up,” she commented as she stepped back to let Helena, Ariana, and Billy into the room. “I’m Leena.”

Helena smiled back. “Ariana’s flight was a little delayed, but everyone’s arrived safely now. Sorry for the hold up.”

“Don’t worry!” called a redhaired young woman who Helena guessed was Claudia. “Pete started eating without you.”

“Lunch was hours ago!” the man who was obviously Pete defended. “You know I need to eat every few hours, Claud.”

“You should’ve packed your pudding cups, Pete,” Myka teased.

“Sorry I forgot to text you, darling,” Helena said as she bent to kiss Myka on the head before joining her on the floor, the others widening the circle they sat in so the new arrivals could join. The middle of the circle was filled with food, drinks, and black and white cards that looked like Cards Against Humanity. “Who is winning?”

“Ugh,” Claudia complained. “_Myka_. She’s too damn smart.”

“Claudia! You’re smart too. I could never figure out computer systems like you. I’m only winning because I can read people so well.”

“Awen’t feewings my chob?” asked Pete with his mouth full of half-chewed pizza.

“Pete!” chorused Claudia, Leena, and Myka.

“God, learn to chew, you heathen,” Myka added, bumping shoulders with him. “And yes, feelings are your job. Facial expressions are mine.”

“You’re just asking to be trounced at poker, my friend,” Pete said after swallowing his food.

“As if,” said Claudia. “I’m the numbers woman here. And I’d say Leena has the feelings job. You have the vibes job.”

Myka shook her head. “Reading faces is more important than calculating odds in poker. I would so win.”

Helena smiled at their banter. She was happy to finally be meeting Myka’s friends. The way Myka talked (or, actually, didn’t talk) about the Warehouse crew, Helena had been a little worried that she kept too much to herself, but she seemed to fit in just fine. It let her breathe a little easier. Obviously Myka just needed time to get comfortable with people.

She turned to Leena, who had apparently sat out this round and was watching on amusedly as Pete and Claudia argued.

“Myka said you all drove in from Univille? Isn’t that a long drive?”

“Eight hours,” Leena said, looking a little tired. “Not too bad in theory, but with Pete and Claudia … I’m exhausted.” She shook her head. “Artie and Vanessa were smart to fly.”

Helena chuckled. “Well, we’re glad you all could make it, and we appreciate the lengths you went through to get here.”

“Of course,” Leena said, smiling. “We love Myka and are so glad she found someone she wants to spend her life with. I think you two will work well together.”

Helena scrunched up her face. “You don’t even know me. Does Myka talk about me?” It didn’t seem very Myka-like.

“Not in too many words, but she makes little off-hand comments that have built a picture of you over time. Just having you around while her family’s going through her dad’s illness … that alone means more to her than she’s probably shared with you. We do what we can, but I think your support has gone a long way.”

She had wondered. Leena was right to say Myka didn’t express her feelings with words, other than polite but trite phrases, and Helena spent half the time wondering if Myka even wanted her around. It was nice knowing for sure she was helping, even in a small way.

Before they could talk further, the game ended, and Pete was loudly challenging Myka to a game of poker, so there was some chaos as everyone grabbed more food and settled in as cards were dealt. After that, Helena had little time to talk with Myka’s friends, but her conversation with Leena put her at ease. Perhaps their bonding would work out well after all.

***

The day of the ceremony turned out to be warm and sunny, perfect for an outdoor event. Myka was happy to find out that it would be the simplest bonding ceremony possible. The less people made a big deal out of this farce, the less stressed she’d be. Of course, Mom did try to make a deal of it by talking about it all the time in the days leading up to it, but she didn’t end up inviting an extra fifty guests, so Myka considered it a win.

Dad wasn’t feeling his best, but he insisted he was well enough to attend, which kind of surprised her. Their relationship had never been an easy one, both of them being stubborn and taciturn, and there had been several occasions where he missed out on school plays, spelling bees, and recitals, so Myka knew it was possible he would end up not coming to the bonding ceremony. But he insisted he’d go even if they had to get him there in a wheelchair. It bothered her that it was something so socially acceptable that had him finally showing his support. As if she hadn’t been worth it before she found her soulmate. As if she wasn’t enough on her own. She pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. It was fine.

As promised, the officiant kept it short and sweet. The kiss at the moment of bonding was only slightly awkward. Myka was more surprised when Helena pulled her in for a strong hug after, but she tried not to stiffen too visibly. It helped when Helena whispered a comment about Tracy’s sour face that had Myka stifling a giggle, so she at least looked like she was enjoying herself.

All in all, it went as well as a bonding ceremony without frills could go, which was all Myka could ask for. She could breathe a little easier, knowing that life going forward wouldn’t be as difficult, now that she could officially state she wasn’t a psychopath. She could get her dream job now, though the thought didn’t fill her with as much satisfaction as it might once have. She appreciated her job at the Warehouse, and the people she worked with.

The subject of jobs came up as they were sitting down for lunch, when Tracy asked, “Where will you be living now?”

Myka and Helena shared a glance. They’d argued over this twice, with Myka insisting they each stay where they were. Long-distance relationships weren’t unheard of, though they mostly happened among the unbonded. She wasn’t about to give up her life just because she was bonded, and she didn’t think Helena should either, despite her saying she’d be happy to move to South Dakota. It was stupid to move just because they were now linked as a couple in the eyes of the law.

“We’re still working on the details,” Helena said evenly, ignoring Myka’s quiet huff of frustration.

“You aren’t moving in together?” Tracy looked scandalized, and Dad looked his usual disappointed self.

Mom frowned briefly but turned to look sternly at Tracy. “Your sister is free to live her life as she wants. Too many soulmates jump straight into the bonded life without considering consequences. If Myka and Helena need time to discover what works best, I fully support them.”

This surprised Myka. Mom had always been supportive of her in a quiet way, but she’d rarely vocally back her up. She smiled at her mom, then turned to her sister. “We haven’t known each other long. We want to take our time getting to know each other.”

Helena put her hand over one of Myka’s and threaded their fingers together. Myka worked to not look startled, then nodded at her mate in thanks for the support. Tracy huffed, but said no more.

“What are your plans for the next few months, dear?” Mom asked.

Hearing laughter, Myka turned to see that her and Helena’s acquaintances were getting along with much less awkward talk at the other table. She wished she was with them. Focusing back on conversation at her own table, she shrugged. “Work. Visit you guys.”

“Don’t forget our trip to England, darling,” Helena chimed in. “Because my parents couldn’t make it for the ceremony, they’re having a little celebration for us there,” she explained to everyone at the table.

“And why was it they couldn’t make their own daughter’s bonding ceremony?” Dad asked, entering the conversation for the first time.

Helena shrugged. “It’s a busy time of year at my father’s company. My brother was meant to come today but had to cancel at the last minute.” At his disapproving frown, she continued. “It’s not a problem, really. We’re not close. It means more to me that you all were able to attend than my own family.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom murmured. “We’re here if you ever need us.”

Uncomfortable with such a personal conversation, Myka cleared her throat. “Looks like we might get rain soon. We should pack up and head home.”

Looking at the sky, everyone agreed. Soon, the group scattered to cars and homes. And so ended the bonding ceremony. It hadn’t finished soon enough for Myka.


	9. Chapter 9

Plans were solidified to fly to England a few weeks after the ceremony, which was nerve wracking to think about. Myka was not nearly as good an actress as Helena was. Given what little she knew of the Wells family, it would not be an easy visit. Her own family was a cakewalk in comparison.

They arrived in London on a cold, rainy day—after flying first class, which made the flight less terrible than most Myka had been on—and were quickly shuttled into a black car with tinted windows and a suited driver in front of a privacy panel. Myka’s eyes must have been huge, because Helena gave a small but strained smile.

“They’re either trying to impress or frighten you. Knowing Mother, probably both. Don’t let it overwhelm you. Which should be your mantra for the whole trip,” she advised.

“Have you even talked to them since you ran into Charles? Your parents, I mean.”

Helena nodded. “Mother called as soon Charles told her I’d found my mate. She spent most of the call telling me what a burden my disappearance had on the family. How other families looked down on us, how she’d been shunned for a whole year from polite society, but that she was willing to put it aside now that I had a mate, blah, blah. Dad sent a strongly worded email.”

“An _email_?” Myka knew it was bad, but not that bad. “From your own father?”

“Now you know why I find your family so much easier to deal with. They may not understand you, but at least they love you.”

Myka felt rage building, and for once she didn’t tamp it down. “Why are we even bothering then? Assholes don’t deserve our acknowledgement, let alone a visit.”

“Myka …”

“No! This is– is stupid! They didn’t come to our bonding. They’ve barely been in touch. They didn’t welcome you with open arms. They deserve nothing from you.”

“It’s fine, really. I left without a word. I put scrutiny on the family. Their reactions are perfectly–”

“No. You’re better than them. By far.”

Helena reached over to squeeze Myka’s hand briefly, before letting go again. She was finally getting used to the casual touches Helena gave freely. She barely stiffened at all. Though she still found it odd seeing a Soulless act so friendly, especially when normal people weren’t around. She really was a very good actor.

“I was only going to say, they acted exactly as I expected them to. There’s a reason I ran away rather than try to hide it like you did.” She shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure why we’re visiting. I guess part of me always craved acceptance from them, as terrible as they were.” She gave Myka a lopsided grin. “And I kind of want to show you off.”

Myka frowned. “Me?” She wasn’t rich, she worked in a store, she didn’t get along with people. What did she have that made her worth the effort?

“Of course. My mate is intelligent, funny when she loosens up, and beautiful. Plus, even though no one will ever know it, I chose you. We weren’t predestined. And I’m proud of the choice I made.”

“How was I a choice? I was the only one willing to do this whole … thing.”

“I could have waited for someone else. But I liked you. I knew we would work well together.”

Myka gave Helena a dubious look, but before she could say anything, the car speaker came to life, and the driver announced their arrival.

They shared an apprehensive look, then Helena sighed. “Into battle.”

***

Walking down the hallway to the guest room they’d be staying in, the confidence Helena had grown into after she’d left home deserted her. She felt fifteen again—scared, overwhelmed, and alone. Except the latter was no longer true. She had Myka now, a fact she’d been aware of before, but after their conversation in the car, it was an idea she was much more confident in. Helena had known it wouldn’t be easy to break down Myka’s walls and form a true friendship, but she’d assumed they’d be further along now than they were. Myka had kept her distance even after their bonding ceremony. But it seemed that the conversation in the car had changed that. Myka cared, and she was finally beginning to show it. And Helena loved what a firebrand Myka could be when she got worked up about something. She looked forward to seeing that come out again when Myka met the family.

Because of course they hadn’t been home to greet the women on their arrival. Mother was at some society tea thing, and Father was at the office. Charles at least was on his way over, but he’d been caught in traffic. At least, that was his claim when Helena had texted him when they’d landed. They had been friends once, but then he’d gone off to Eton and changed. Where once he had been in awe of Helena’s childhood inventions, he’d become a man who looked down on her for her gender. He probably hadn’t changed much since then.

The butler entered a door and put down their bags, bringing Helena out of her musings. “Anything else, ma’am?” he asked, looking as if he’d rather not do anything else for her.

“Have someone inform us when my brother arrives, please.”

He nodded shortly, then left the room.

“Of course your family has a butler,” Myka muttered, looking around the room, which was twice the size of the one they stayed in at the Berings’.

Helena’s stomach clenched. She’d hoped Myka wouldn’t be bothered by the trappings of wealth her parents loved to display, but it didn’t look like that would be the case. Before her eyes, the fiery attitude Myka had displayed in the car disappeared. Her back straightened, her face blanked, and her breathing evened out. The only tell that showed she felt anything at all was a slight clenching of her fists, but after a moment, she forcefully straightened those out too. Gone was her friend, her partner, and in her place stood the emotionless mannequin Helena had met months ago.

This didn’t bode well.

***

The table was quiet, despite the six people who sat around it, politely eating dinner. Helena’s parents sat at each end, with Helena and Myka on one side and Charles and his mate across from them. Charles had made it in time for tea, and he’d at least made an effort to talk to both Helena and Myka, but with all of the polite questions out of the way, he made no effort to continue talking through dinner, and his mate, Miranda, had barely spared half a glance for them when she arrived. Mother had coldly kissed Helena’s cheeks when she entered the dining room, and Father was late for dinner. Now they sat eating the second course, with the only conversation so far being business talk between Charles and Father.

Mother eventually broke the silence to talk about the tea she had attended, and Helena quickly realized she was attempting to impress and intimidate Myka. It’s not that it was such a surprise, but more that Helena had hoped for at least one day of peace before her parents got up to their usual better-than-thou act. Just one day to at least _pretend_ they cared that their own daughter was alive and back home. And bonded no less. She’d seen how Warren had put more effort into interacting with Myka after he realized she had found her soulmate. It was an arsehole move, but at least he cared to some extent. The Wells family though … Helena shouldn’t have expected anything other than what she was getting. She was starting to believe Myka had been right, that they shouldn’t have attempted a reunion.

And Myka wasn’t helping at all, her social mask firmly in place. There were none of the friendly and happy signs she’d showed with her friends and or the stiff emotions she’d playacted around the rest of the Berings. Or even the hesitant but friendly undertones that permeated their own conversations. This was Myka the automaton. Helena had known she would be stiff around the Wells family, and she didn’t really blame her, but after seeing the fiery woman she had been in the car, Helena had hoped for more of that. She wanted a supportive partner, not this lifeless being with a fake smile. Then again, it was only their first day in England. Maybe things would be better after a good night’s sleep.

“I _told_ Alanna that it wouldn’t work, but she never listens. The tea was almost a complete disaster. The board will understand now why we need a new coordinator, someone with actual experience. It’s so hard to find people willing to put in the work needed for a successful event.” No one at the table responded to Mother’s spiel, and after a moment’s annoyed wait, she turned to Myka. “Do you do anything, Ms. Bering?”

Myka’s eyes grew and she paused with her soup spoon halfway to her mouth. Then she lowered the spoon to her bowl and cleared her throat. “Please, call me Myka.” Mother inclined her head in a queenly manner and waited for Myka to continue. “I’m, um, I work in an antique store in South Dakota. Mostly on the buying side of things. I contact people who are looking to sell items, and sometimes I fly out to estate sales.”

Mother gave a smile-grimace. “What an admirable _hobby_. You come from money then?”

Myka frowned. “No. My parents own a bookstore. Working at the Warehouse is my full-time job.”

Helena growled internally. There Mother went again, trying to intimidate. She’d have to put a stop to it before Myka melted into the floor from humiliation or fear. “Myka has an excellent eye for antiques. She knows just what will sell well and quickly. With her background in literature, business, and language, she could’ve have done whatever she wanted, but this is what makes her happy. And that’s all that matters.” She glared defiantly at her family.

Charles cleared his throat. “Of course, Helena. I always expected your soulmate would be on your level of intelligence if they were a woman. It’s a good match. All Mother meant was–”

Helena slammed her silverware down, tired of holding it in. “Yes, Charles, I’m extremely aware of what Mother meant. I don’t need you to explain it to me, even with my weak, female brain. It’s evident what you all mean.” She glanced at Myka, hoping the firebrand would come back out and back her up, but she kept her face impassive as she stared at her soup. Helena felt the anger drain out of her, leaving her exhausted instead. “This was a mistake. We’re leaving.” She stood up and threw her napkin on the table. “Myka?” Myka looked up with wide eyes, then followed suit, still not speaking.

“Helena George Wells, you sit down right this instant. I did not raise a heathen who yells at the table and leaves in the middle of the meal,” Mother ordered.

“No, you didn’t,” Helena said. “You tried to raise a girl who did as commanded and never questioned anything. A girl who would be happy arranging flowers and fundraisers and cocktail parties. But I was never that girl, and you hated me for it. I’ve been disappointing you my entire life, and you wonder why I ran away as soon as I could. But I’m _proud_ of who I’ve become. I have a job that I enjoy, friends who support me, an intelligent mate who said it was bollocks that I was trying to reunite with you. But I was delusional and hoped I would finally gain your approval when you saw what I’d done with my life. But Myka was right. This is bullshit, and I don’t have to take it.” She stalked out of the room, not even waiting to see if anyone would argue back or if Myka would follow.

She pounded up the stairs, down the hall, and into their room, going straight to the ensuite to gather the toiletries she’d set out when they arrived. God, what had she been thinking, trying to reunite with her family? Deep down, she was still the little girl who just wanted her parents’ approval and love. It was her own fault. Her parents were the same people they’d always been, and to expect them to have changed was utter idiocy.

Myka inched into the room, her arms tucked around her middle. She watched Helena move about the room without saying a word. After a few moments, she began packing up as well.

Helena turned to watch her, to see if she was going to have any reaction, but she merely put her things in her bag. Couldn’t she unbend just enough to comfort a friend?

“Nothing? Still? I’ve just had a fight with my family—my flesh and blood—and you’re just going to act like it doesn’t matter? I can understand not getting in the middle of the fight, but now we’re alone and you know I’m upset, and you’re ignoring me,” Helena spat, turning her anger on the only person available. A small voice told her it was wrong, but she had been waiting to explode since she was twelve years old, and now that it was free, she wasn’t shoving it back down. And it wasn’t like Myka had done anything to help. She’d sat there, staring at her soup like a mannequin. Mates were meant to back each other up, and the fact that they weren’t _soul_mates shouldn’t matter.

Myka’s head whipped up, and she stared, wide-eyed. “What?”

“Where were you earlier? Where have you been since we were bonded? I thought we were going to be partners, but you’re acting the same as you did when we first met. You never ask how I’m doing, how work is going. You didn’t even ask about my family until just before you were to meet them. I know you’re a bit distant, but I thought that would change once we got to know each other. And then you got angry on my behalf in the car, and I thought you were finally relaxing. But now you’re back to your cold, distant façade, not even _trying_ to comfort me in private.”

Myka scrubbed her face with her hands. “I don’t know what you want from me, Helena! You might be able to keep the mask of a normal person on all the time, but I can’t! I thought that being with you meant finally being able to be myself, but then you want me to playact caring for you in private. I don’t understand! Why do we have to pretend when we’re around each other? Why can’t we just be ourselves?”

Helena’s anger began dissipating into confusion and unease the longer Myka spoke. She didn’t think she’d ever asked Myka for more than support and understanding. They may not be real soulmates, but they still were partners. What did Myka think she was asking for?

“I’m not asking you to not be yourself, Myka. But we’re partners. And I thought we’d become friends. Implicit in that sort of a relationship is understanding, empathy, caring. What were you expecting?”

“A business arrangement! Two Soulless people forming a partnership based on a need to not be ostracized or locked up. We can’t be more than that. It’s impossible!”

“But _why_ does it have to be that? Why can’t we be friends? Why can’t we support and care for each other? We’re building a life together.” Helena ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself. This would go nowhere if she couldn’t think clearly.

Myka stared at her in confusion. “Why …? Because we’re Soulless, Helena. You know, people without souls. _Psychopaths_. Why do you want to pretend to feel? Don’t you ever get tired of that? Don’t you just want to be yourself, even if it’s only around me?”

The words stole her breath. She sagged onto the bench at the foot of the bed, unable to speak or move, unbelieving of what she’d just heard. Of course, since she was a child, Myka had been fed the story that markless people were actually soulless, but as a Soulless herself, she should have seen what bullshit that was.

“Do you really believe that, Myka?” she asked softly, looking over at her. Myka frowned, so she continued. “I’ve _seen_ you feel. You try to stifle it, but I’ve seen how you care for those around you. You worry over your parents, you get fondly annoyed with your sister, you smile softly and joke when you talk to your Warehouse friends. I’ve known a psychopath, and you are _far_ from it.”

Myka sat slowly next to her, chewing her lip. “But we’re Soulless. If you don’t have a soulmate, that means you must not have a soul.”

Helena sighed, trying to decide how to navigate this landmine, shoving her fight with her family to the back of her mind in order to concentrate on the more pressing matter. “Do you know what the ancient Egyptians believed?” she asked. When she got a head shake, she continued. “They believed that those without soulmarks loved so much that they couldn’t choose just one mate. They were considered the guardians of their communities, and they were highly revered. The Greeks gave unmarked children to the temples, because only those without mates would be able to worship and serve fully. The Dalai Lama is _always_ an unmarked, for no one else can think as clearly when they have the earthly trappings of a mate. More than that, Dalai Lamas are believed to be incarnations of Avalokiteśvara, a Bodhisattva of _Compassion_. Would a culture really give the highest office of their spiritual community to a psychopath?”

“But …” Myka’s eyes were huge and she twisted her fingers together.

“You’ve been fed a line, Myka. One that didn’t even gain acceptance until Christianity took hold of the Western world. It’s a load of bullshit. You have to know that. You have to _feel_ that.”

Myka furrowed her brow but didn’t say anything for a time. After a few minutes of silence, she opened her mouth, then closed it again. Squeezed her hands together and tried again. “You feel real feelings? Not just projections?”

“Oh, Myka,” Helena whispered, her heart aching for her mate. “You’ve been pushing down your emotions for so long. No wonder you’re tired.” She put a comforting arm around Myka, and then when she didn’t flinch or move away, she added a second arm to give her a hug. Myka allowed it, but she didn’t lean in or return the embrace. She just sat there breathing. After a few minutes, Helena let go, and patted Myka’s knee. “You going to be okay?”

“Can we go home?” Myka asked in a quiet but steady voice.

“If that’s what you want. Or we can get a hotel and do some sightseeing. I know you were excited to see the city a little.”

“I’m sorry. I’d rather just go home. But you can stay if you want.” Myka’s face was eerily blank and still.

Helena sighed and pulled away. “No. Let’s go home.”


	10. Chapter 10

Weeks after Helena had shared her theory, Myka’s thoughts were still a mess. First of all, was it the truth? She hadn’t completely believed Helena when she’d heard it, but she’d been researching in her free time since then. She’d had known it wouldn’t be easy to find answers, if those in power in the Western world wanted everyone to believe that markless meant soulless. But through a contact of Artie’s, she’d been able to find some rare books, things in people’s private collections from before the idea had taken hold or things people had surreptitiously brought back from outside the Western world. It was amazing what ideas could be shut down, given the omnipresence of the internet, but they apparently had been.

Still, it was hard to believe Helena’s claims. For the first few days, Myka thought that was because they were lies, propaganda spread by the Wayward community. But the more she read and learned, and the more her mind scraped the barrel to explain away Helena’s words, the more Myka doubled down and wanted Helena to be a liar. Not because she wanted to be a psychopath, but because she’d been burdened with the role of being one most of her life. She’d worked so hard to hide what she was, she’d hated herself for her lack of a mark, and she’d made herself believe the lies she’d been told. So to know that they were lies was to realize she’d worked hard for no reason. She could have had normal teenaged years, she could have had friends and shown her family how much she loved them. She could have _felt_. _Anything_. Instead of telling herself that any emotions she thought she felt were just projections of what people expected her—as the normal person she pretended she was—to feel. And that really fucking sucked. If she believed Helena, then over half of her life was a lie. Yes, she would have still had to hide her lack of mark, but she could have been living a full life, not the shitty half-life she’d told herself was all she deserved.

But the more she researched and thought about it, the more Helena’s claim made sense. So, she went back to the chatrooms she’d abandoned after meeting Helena and asked around. Most believed as Helena did, and more than that, they had a theory on why some people—people like her—were markless. While most of humanity could feel romantic love for others, a few didn’t. Aromantic, they called it. But just because they couldn’t feel romantic love didn’t mean that they didn’t feel any type of love. Most had very fulfilling lives surrounded by friends and family, they loved their pets and their jobs, they felt all sorts of emotions. Just not romantic love. Some Waywards even found a good friend to partner with. These couples loved each other as friends, but also enjoyed sharing a house, having pets or kids together, and doing other things that had been earmarked by society as something only bonded couples did. It seemed very much like what Helena and Myka had done, except they had taken it further with the fake soulmarks. Perhaps that’s what Helena had expected from the beginning. Or at least as she got to know Myka better. And perhaps she’d expected Myka had the same idea.

Except Myka hadn’t known. She’d been stupid and not questioned what she’d been taught. She’d always been a rule follower. She’d never had Helena’s sense of curiosity or adventure. So she’d nodded along and hadn’t questioned a damn thing. Only to find out, years later, that she had been selling herself short. What was she meant to do now?

For a time, she kept on as she always had. Putting on her public mask when she interacted with anyone, and shoving down any stray feelings when she was alone. She worked and read and hung out with the Warehouse crew (had they actually been her friends this whole time? Not just something she was shamming?), emoting just enough in public to look normal. Habits were hard to break. And she really didn’t know what to do anyway. If she started acting differently, would everyone scrutinize her? Would her changing personality somehow reveal that she was markless? Of course, she had a working mark now, she was in the system, so there was nothing to reveal.

But the thought of allowing herself to feel, to get attached to people and to show her feelings to the world was terrifying. Even as a child she’d been reserved. Making friends had been difficult, and she’d always been happier with books than with people. To suddenly wear her heart on her sleeve … she didn’t know if she could do that. So, she continued to hold it in. Over time, she got better at realizing when she was having real feelings, then later, she stopped shoving them away. But she still kept things close to the vest. The idea of just vomiting her emotions over everyone and everything made her uncomfortable, naked. It wasn’t who she was.

Still, she was changing, and people did notice. A few months after the disaster trip to England, she and her friends—a word she still had to fight herself to even use—were bowling one evening when the subject came up.

Leena had been looking at her oddly practically since her return from England. She was the one Myka had been most worried about, because she was far too perceptive when it came to emotions. But she’d held her tongue, even if she let her eyes ask the questions. Having been lulled into a false sense of security by that, Myka failed to realize that Pete had sensed a change as well. And unlike Leena, he simply said whatever was on his mind, regardless of the consequences.

They were laughing at something Myka said about Pete’s odd bowling moves, which were frankly hilarious, even if he was still the best bowler of the group. Instead of giving his usual “come on, guys” response to the ribbing, Pete tilted his head and looked at Myka. She knew that look. It was the same one Leena had been focusing on her for the past few months. Myka cut off her laugh and looked away, praying he wouldn’t say anything. But Pete, being Pete, just had to blurt it out.

“What’s got you so happy and relaxed these days, Mykes? Not that I’m not loving it, because you’re even _more_ fun to be around than before, and I love you no matter what. But I’m curious. What does it take to loosen up Straight-laced McGee?”

“Dude, she’s bonded now,” Claudia said, and Myka relaxed a little. She owed Claudia a cookie for the good excuse. How had she not managed to think of it before? Oh, right, because she had been quietly freaking out for the past few months and therefore not thinking at all.

Pete continued looking at Myka, eyes squinted in thought, then he shook his head. “No, that’s not it. She knew Helena long before that, and she didn’t change at all after the bonding ceremony. It’s more recent than that. Plus, they’re not even living together.”

“Don’t judge,” Claudia replied, still defensive. “God, what’s your trauma, Pete?”

Myka smiled at her friend—and for once, she easily thought of Claudia as such, and that felt nice—and said, “It’s okay, Claud.” She turned to Pete, mouth open to reply, but Leena beat her to it.

“It doesn’t matter, Pete. We’re just happy you feel more comfortable around us now, Myka,” she said with an understanding smile.

And that was that. At least from their end. After the next round, Claudia and Leena went to get food for everyone, leaving Pete and Myka alone. She felt the need to say something to put his thoughts to rest but couldn’t figure out what. Luckily, Pete thought of something.

“I’m sorry. About earlier. I think it’s a good thing, the way you’ve changed, and I just wanted to acknowledge that. But it was wrong of me to put you on the spot.”

She bumped his shoulder with one of hers. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything rude by it. And anyway, it’s not anything big. I’m just … very slow at getting used to people. I never had many friends growing up, so I don’t really know how to act.” She shrugged. “I guess Helena has helped me come to terms with some of that. She’s been …” Myka bit her lip, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound stupid but finally went with, “really amazing. I’m lucky to have her.”

She suddenly felt terrible for how she’d been behaving to Helena since their bonding. She’d done so much for her, while Myka hadn’t lifted one little finger to be a good partner in return.

Pete smiled softly. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

Before they could continue, the others returned bearing nachos. “Okay, losers, who’s ready to get their asses kicked?” Claudia asked, rubbing her hands together.

Myka and Pete shared a final smile, then Pete turned to Claudia. “As if. I’m going to win so hard, you’ll be doing bathroom cleaning duty for a month.”

“You are so on.”


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, Myka took her first steps in making reparations for the terrible partner she’d been to Helena. She tapped the icon to call Helena, whose concerned face appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Myka. Is everything okay. Is your dad …?”

She hadn’t really thought through what a video call would mean, considering they’d rarely done them before, and more recently their conversations had been solely via text. Myka hurried to reassure Helena.

“No, he’s fine. Well, you know. As fine as he can be. I just … you and I haven’t really talked in a while, and I thought maybe … but you’re probably busy. I’m sorry. I should–”

“Myka! It’s fine. We can talk if you just want to talk.”

Myka took a breath. “Right. Yeah. So, how are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Goo– No! How _are_ you? Really?”

Helena’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay, Myka?”

“Can’t one friend just ask another friend how they’re doing?”

“Alright. Sure. Point taken.” Helena had a hint of a smile hovering at the corner of her mouth. “I’m doing well. I’m working on a new project. I’ve pretty much been eating, sleeping, and breathing it for the past few weeks. But it’s finally coming together. I’m excited.”

“Good. Is this for work or …”

“No. Personal project. Work’s been pretty dull lately.” Helena shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“But _just_ fine?”

“Exactly. Good thing I’ve got other stuff I can lean on when it gets like this. I’d be going mad otherwise. And you? Work is going okay?”

“It’s really good,” Myka replied with a genuine smile. “Lots of traveling lately. I took Claudia with me on my last trip. She was nervous, but it went well. She’s got a good eye.” She took a deep breath before launching into the real reason for her call. “I was thinking of visiting the Springs soon. And I was thinking—if you didn’t have anything going on and were interested, which if you aren’t, that’s completely fine—maybe you’d like to come with?”

Helena tilted her head to the side. “Do you _want_ me to come?”

Myka bit her lip. This was not going as smoothly as she’d hoped. And sharing her wants, even with Helena, was still not easy. It felt so soul-baring. She spoke carefully. “I thought it might be good to spend some time together. But it doesn’t have to be the Springs.”

“No, that’s fine. Spending time with you anywhere is good.”

“You sure?”

“Myka,” Helena said with a stern tone. “I’d say if it wasn’t. I’m not going to lie to you.”

“No, I know. Just. Okay. Um, I’ll email you the dates I’m looking at.”

She smiled. “Wonderful,” she began, then looked off to the side as a muffled voice spoke. “Hey, I need to go, but we’ll talk soon?”

“Oh, sorry! I did call at a bad time. I should’ve–”

“No. It was good. It was _nice_ to talk to you for a bit.”

“Yeah, it was.” Myka allowed a smile to escape. “I’ll try not to be a stranger.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Have a good evening.”

“You too. Bye.”

“Goodbye, Myka.”

***

Helena was cautiously optimistic after Myka called her for the first time since their disastrous England trip. She’d barely spoken a word during the night they’d spent at a hotel waiting for a flight to be available, and she’d sat stiffly and silently on the flight home. Since then, they’d communicated exclusively by text, but Helena held her patience, though barely. She understood what Myka was going through, she’d gone through something similar when her soulmark failed to appear, though she didn’t have to deal with years of repression and lying to herself, and she knew how hard Myka could be on herself for small things. So, she waited, and hoped more than she’d ever done before that Myka would figure things out, or at least come to her for help.

But as the months passed and the silence held, she began to worry. So when Myka video called her out of the blue, she had expected the worst—with Myka’s dad or Myka herself. But they had a fairly normal conversation, a bit stilted, but otherwise just fine. Then Myka had asked if she wanted to visit the Springs with her, and the way she asked, it almost seemed like how a shy teenager would ask out their recently found soulmate. It was kind of adorable.

She couldn’t tell for sure based on that single call, but it seemed as though Myka had worked out her feelings (and allowed herself to believe that she could actually have them). Part of her was glad she’d figured it out at all, but part of her was hurt that Myka hadn’t come to her for help. She understood that Myka was the type who liked to work things out by herself, but they were partners. Hadn’t Helena shown that she was ready and willing to be that? However, at least Myka was making an overture now, if the call was anything to go by.

And they’d scheduled another call, which Helena was waiting on now. Anxiously, if she was honest. Her hopes were being raised, but she still worried Myka would retreat again at the next sign of difficulty.

Her tablet dinged with the incoming call, so she put her worries aside, pasted a smile on her face, and answered the call.

“Hello, darling.”

Myka looked as stiff and nervous as she usually did at the beginning of a new conversation. “Um, hi. Helena. How are you?”

“Do you want a real answer, or just the pat ‘I’m fine’ answer?” Helena ribbed, harkening back to their last call.

It worked as intended, and Myka’s shoulders fell from around her ears, and her posture turned more natural. “I’m going to hang up if you’re going to act like this all night.” Her tone was teasing despite the threat, and she now wore a tiny smile.

Helena grinned. Perfect. “You’d be so bored if I didn’t keep you on your toes.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Especially after getting so used to it from Pete and Claudia. The other day, I wasn’t thinking and gave the grocery cashier a sarcastic reply. I almost died when I realized what I’d said.”

“But you didn’t die, did you?” Helena asked, relaxing further as she saw how much Myka had progressed during her time in hiding. Perhaps it had been best that she’d dealt with it on her own, despite Helena’s own wish to help.

“No, I didn’t. In fact, she was like a Claudia clone who gave back as good as she got. It was …” Myka bit her lip as if afraid to say it. “Fun.”

“I’m glad,” Helena said quietly.

“They’ve always been my friends, haven’t they? The Warehouse group. They weren’t just being nice to the poor, quiet coworker.”

Helena’s chest hurt. “Oh, Myka. They love you. For real.”

“I think … I think I love them too.”

“You do. Just like you love your family.”

“Well, maybe not Tracy. They’re way more fun than she is.”

Helena laughed. “I can see that. So, you’ve been having fun with them lately?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re doing the same things we always do, but it’s nice. Not having to hold back. You know?”

“I know.” She might not understand the exact feelings Myka was dealing with, but she knew the relief of people seeing her for who she really was, she’d felt the freedom of tossing aside expectations and acting in a way that felt natural rather than rehearsed.

“Thank you.”

Knowing the answer but wanting to give Myka the room to acknowledge it, she pleaded obliviousness. “For?”

Myka took a deep breath. “For helping me see the truth. For making me question after I’d spent my whole life burying my head in the sand. And. For waiting while I worked it all out on my own. It couldn’t have been easy, especially with the radio silence on my end.”

Helena shrugged, able to play it off as nothing now that Myka had apologized for it. “You needed time. I get that.”

“So.” Myka gave a slightly strangled laugh. “You’ll never guess what Pete did to Artie the other day.”

“Tell me.”


	12. Chapter 12

As the plane taxied to the gate at the Colorado Springs Airport, Helena wondered what version of Myka she’d be seeing today. The anxious, stiff woman she’d met all those months ago, who had reappeared after their disastrous England trip? The quiet, careful woman she’d been during their first few months of getting to know each other, who tended to resurface around her family? The soft, funny woman she was around her friends, the one who had slowly appeared during the past month of calls? She knew which one she wanted to see, but feared that because they were visiting Myka’s family, she’d be getting the careful version instead.

It’d been nice, them talking the last few weeks. Myka always started out a bit stiff but loosened the more they talked. They discussed anything and everything—childhoods, hobbies, movies, weird habits, workplace hijinks (mostly Myka’s), favorite foods. She had considered Myka a friend before the calls, but getting to know her better made her realize how surficial that previous relationship had been. But now, they enjoyed each other, and they knew things about each other. And now it was time to see how Myka would behave in person and around her family again. Helena prayed their new dynamic held. She never wanted to see that stiff, emotionless person again. That person made her sad.

She’d managed to temper her anxiety by the time she had her bag and was walking outside to search out Myka in the sea of cars waiting for friends and family. Myka stuck her head of a car window and waved, and Helena headed over.

“Hi,” Myka greeted Helena when she slid into the car. Her smile was a little crooked and her knuckles a little white, but she didn’t look completely out of her depth.

“Hi,” Helena replied. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Well I am your bonded mate. I’d be pretty crap if I didn’t,” Myka said with a stronger smile.

Helena relaxed. She liked this teasing version of Myka. “That you would. Especially when you were the one to invite me.”

“Thanks again,” Myka said, pulling the car away from the curb and heading back onto the road into town. “These trips always go much better when you’re around. I really appreciate it.”

“Of _course_, Myka. I’m always here for you.”

Myka spared a glance from the road to shoot a nervous look at Helena. “I’m, um, glad to hear that. I wanted–”

Before she could finish her sentence, her phone buzzed. It was her mother asking for them to make a grocery stop before they headed home. After that, it was Helena writing down the list, Myka navigating traffic, both of them navigating the grocery crowd, and in the rush, Myka’s words were forgotten.

***

Dinner was a quiet affair with just Myka, her parents, and Helena, for which she was grateful. Tracy wasn’t _all_ that bad, but she was always annoyed with Kevin these days it seemed, and given that Dad was having a good day, she was relieved he’d be spared having to feel that tension. She’d flown in the day before Helena and had had to deal with a meal of just the three of them, and she’d been telling Helena the truth when she said these trips went much better with her around.

She’d been a little thrown when she’d realized it. The closer to Helena’s arrival it got, the more relaxed she’d become, which was not a feeling she ever remembered experiencing before. She had been doing herself such a disservice by keeping people at a distance. If only she hadn’t been so convinced that what she’d been told about the Soulless was true, her life could have been very different. But dwelling on the past and her mistakes would get her nowhere, and she’d already vowed to herself that she’d focus on the present and future.

Dad was regaling Helena with his favorite story of a shop patron who always came in and asked for the strangest books, while Mom and Myka finished putting dishes on the table.

“Oh, thank you, ladies. This looks delicious. I reckon this means you and I are on cleanup duty, Warren?” Helena noted with a wink.

Dad, who had never washed a dish without being forced at gunpoint, paused with his mouth open for a moment, then surprised everyone except perhaps Helena by saying, “I suppose we are.”

Myka shared a wide-eyed look with Mom, but both wisely chose to not highlight the statement.

“It’s a recipe from Myka,” Mom said instead, placing a serving spoon in bowl of taco meat and smiling at Myka.

Myka shrugged. “Don’t expect too much. I got it from Pete, who claims it’s the ‘ultimate bachelor food’ and has oh-so-creatively named it Mexican Pile-on.”

Helena laughed. “That sounds like Pete. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

“Have you seen Pete eat?” Myka asked. “I don’t think he tastes his food. He just inhales it.”

“But _you_ obviously like it, since you gave your mum the recipe.”

“It _is_ delicious,” Mom cut in. “I made it for Warren a few weeks ago, and that’s the most I’ve seen him eat in ages.”

“Hm,” Dad grunted in a vaguely positive tone as he started piling food on top of chips. “It’s good.”

“Ringing endorsement, that,” Myka said. And it was. Dad let his displeasure be made known when he disliked something, but he rarely showed his appreciation for anything other than a book.

The others laughed as they all dove into the meal, allowing a comfortable quiet to overtake the room. After dinner—Dad and Helena did indeed handle cleanup—they settled back at the table for a game of parcheesi. It was Mom’s suggestion after hearing Helena say how much Myka enjoyed game nights with her friends. Myka couldn’t remember the last time her family had played a game together. Growing up, weekday evenings were for homework and reading, and on the weekends, everyone tended to scatter and do their own things—Myka generally to her room and Tracy to one of her many friends’ houses or the mall.

It should have felt odd, but it didn’t, Helena keeping the conversation moving smoothly, happily engaging with everyone in turn. She was a gracious loser as well, though Myka suspected she’d thrown the game on purpose to let Dad win. He was getting tired and thus gruffer as the evening wound down. He retired as soon as the game ended, but instead of following, Mom poured three glasses of wine, and they settled in the living room.

“Thank you, girls. This was a good day. Dad appreciated it too, even if he doesn’t say it.”

“You don’t have to speak for him, Mom,” Myka argued. She’d seen Mom perform the same dance every time Dad made a social faux pas or got too gruff with the girls when she was younger. “He’s a grown man, and if he can’t learn to show his appreciation, it shouldn’t be on you to apologize or speak on his behalf.”

“Myka, that is no way to talk about your father, especially now when–”

Myka felt rage bubble up and, for once, she didn’t push it down. “No, Mom. He’s not acting any worse than he ever has, so don’t pass it off as the cancer. Just because he’s your soulmate doesn’t mean you’re responsible for his actions, _even_ when he’s sick.”

“Myka Ophelia Bering!”

Helena laid a quelling hand on Myka’s arm. She didn’t say anything, but she raised an eyebrow at Myka, and Myka’s rage settled a little. She took a breath and understood what Helena wasn’t saying. She was too much like her dad. And because she didn’t want Helena to take on the same role as her mom, she apologized.

“Sorry, Mom. Just … I hate watching you do this every time. It’s unfair to you.”

Mom cocked her head. “I appreciate your concern, but I know what I’m doing. Your father takes up the slack for me in other areas. We both give and take, and our relationship works well for us. I’m not unhappy.”

“But are you _happy_?” She didn’t think she’d ever asked her mom that question before, and she wasn’t even sure where it had come from.

“More often than not, yes I am. I know being bonded is new to you, but you’ll soon realize that no relationship is perfect, no matter much you love and are meant for each other. Some days you’ll be unhappy. Some days you’ll be angry. It’s how you handle those days and how much you appreciate the good ones that make a relationship work.”

Myka hazarded a glance at her own mate. Even though their relationship was a sham, she was beginning to hope they could have at least a little of that someday. As if reading her mind, Helena slipped her hand into Myka’s where it lay on her thigh, giving it a squeeze. Myka tried to smile but wasn’t sure she managed it.

“I’m glad you finally found each other,” Mom continued, her gaze soft as she looked at them. “For each other, but for Dad too. He’s been so worried about you being alone. I hope you two take care of each other.” She looked at them for a few moments longer then pulled a book onto her lap, closing the conversation and leaving Myka a few things to think about.

She had been lucky to find Helena. Their relationship might have started as a way to get the world off their backs and allow them some freedom, but it turned out that they actually worked well together, at least now that Myka had stopped keeping her distance. It was still hard to open herself up to Helena, but it was growing easier with time and practice. She’d come to genuinely enjoy their conversations over the past month. Helena was witty, charming, and so easy to talk to. In just a month, she had probably learned more about Myka than anyone else ever had, her own family included. Part of it was because they shared a secret, but more than that, they just clicked.

Myka’s relationship with the Warehouse crew had developed well enough, but a lot of that was down to Pete and Claudia just being overexuberant and Leena being perceptive enough to understand Myka’s limits, but it was more like Myka had reluctantly been dragged into that dynamic, at least until recently. With Helena, once Myka had let herself, their relationship had grown organically because of what they both gave and took.

And they could have continued on indefinitely that way, but Helena deserved more than that. Myka had made a vow to herself that she would take the time to talk with Helena about what they were to each other and what they wanted in the future. She’d been ready to do so in the car ride from the airport but had been waylaid by Mom’s request for a grocery trip. Tomorrow, she’d try again. After all that Helena had done for her, it was Myka’s turn to give.

***

Helena sat at the kitchen table with a much-needed cup of tea. Usually she was a people person, but every once in a while, a mood would hit where all she wanted to do was be alone with a book and a mug of fragrant tea. Luckily for her, Myka and Warren were downstairs in the store and Tracy and Kevin were elsewhere. Jeannie was around, but Helena hadn’t seen her since she’d popped her head in about ten minutes before, asking if she needed anything.

The great thing about staying at the Bering residence was the plethora of reading material available in every room. Warren and Jeannie had vast personal collections, and both Bering daughters had left their childhood and teen books when they’d moved away. Helena enjoyed discovering tiny Myka’s evolution of tastes, though she was sad to see that it went from imaginative and fun to dryer and more philosophical as she’d grown. Not that there was anything wrong with philosophy, but when you’re a fifteen-year-old girl, you should be reading fun stuff. Still, she’d hit the jackpot when she found Asimov’s _Foundation_ books on the top shelf in Myka’s room.

She was rereading a favorite passage when Jeannie snuck into the kitchen and took the chair across from her.

“Ah, you found Myka’s not-so-secret stash of science fiction.” Jeannie’s knowing grin made Helena return one of her own.

“I always had a soft spot for science fiction,” Helena confided, taking a drink of her tea, only to realize she’d let it go grow cold. She must have made a face, because Jeannie stood and went to fill the kettle, waving away Helena’s protests.

“I was wanting a cup myself. So, fan of Asimov?”

“A bit. Not really a fan of old white male authors in general—give me Atwood or Butler any day—but this series had some good stuff. But a bit heavy for a teenager, I would think.”

Jeannie sighed and leaned against the counter. “Not for our Myka. She loved a good challenge. And she was always a quiet and studious one. Well, she did her fair share of tree climbing and reading about dragons when she was younger, but the older she got …” She shook her head. “I’m not sure what happened. One day a switch just flipped, and my little girl disappeared.”

Not wanting to step too far into that pool for fear of saying something she shouldn’t, Helena tried to deflect. “Oh, teenagers, you know? We all of sudden become too cool to like our childhood interests.”

The kettle beeped, and Jeannie turned to fix their mugs, but she continued the conversation. “I suppose. But I kept expecting to see hints of it when she wasn’t holding herself so tightly, or for her to grow out of it, but … she just never did.” Jeannie’s face was troubled when she turned slightly, and Helena tried to think of a way to comfort her, but before she could come up with the words, Jeannie smiled brightly. “Of course, that’s changed now.” Bringing their cups back to the table, she continued. “I really want to thank you for that.”

Helena froze. “No. I didn’t–”

“I know I said last night that a soulmate is not a cure-all, despite what Hollywood tries to tell us, but having you around has done wonders for Myka. And I think the fact that I’ve only recently seen a difference in her proves that it’s not a soulmate panacea. It’s _you_. I saw from the start the way you’d try to pull her out of her head, but it’s only this week that I’ve seen her really reacting to that. And she’s been more open for the past couple of months. I don’t think I’ve seen an outburst like the one last night since she was thirteen. So yes, I think I’m perfectly justified in thanking you. I am so happy to have a bit of my little girl back.”

Jeannie smiled knowingly. Helena didn’t know what to say, so she smiled back as best she could and nodded. But had she done anything? Well, other than get Myka to see that she wasn’t what society claimed she was? Could that alone be enough to change someone’s personality? Except, she realized, Myka’s personality really hadn’t changed. She’d just changed how she interacted with other people. Including her own family, apparently. Maybe she had done something to help. She wanted that to be true. She liked the idea of being half of a partnership. The older she got, the more she realized she wanted someone she could confide in, support, love. A best friend who had the same goals in life that she did. Despite their rough start, she hoped they were on their way to that.

Her smile was a little more real the second time. “I’m lucky to have found her.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for brief talk of Christina’s death.

That evening, they were in the bathroom getting ready for dinner when Helena noticed that Myka seemed a little off. She kept staring off into space and bumping into things. She was about to mention it when Myka’s elbow hit a shelf hard enough to knock everything onto the floor.

“Oh, shit!” Myka muttered, with more vehemence than Helena thought was called for.

She leaned against the sink as Myka bent to pick everything up. “Myka …” Myka continued muttering to herself, so she tried again. “Myka, look at me please?”

Myka rubbed her forehead, then stopped organizing and looked up. “Hmm?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve been off since you came up from the shop. Did you and your dad have a fight?”

“No! No. I’m fine. It’s … fine. I’m just tired is all.”

“We can stay home tonight. We don’t have to go out for–”

“No, I want to. I promised I’d take you out.” Myka looked thoughtful for a few moments, then stood from her crouch. “I’m actually … there’s something I wanted to say, and I wanted to talk about it at dinner, but maybe if it’s better if we … yes, I think we should …” She finally stopped her ramble and gestured. “Let’s sit in the room. It’ll be more comfortable.”

Helena raised her eyebrows but followed willingly. She sat beside Myka on their bed and waited. After a moment, Myka took a deep breath and nodded.

“First, I wanted to apologize. For how I’ve handled our relationship. I mean, yeah, part of it wasn’t my fault. I thought we were both Soulless, and so I expected ours to be more of a business arrangement, and you never said otherwise. But it’s still on me for never questioning what I’d been told or asking you what you wanted out of our relationship. I should have seen, from the way you acted, that you were just as normal as anyone else, and that you might want something real. Anyway, so yeah, I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, the way I pushed you away in the beginning. But. I want to change that, okay? We may not be real soulmates, but we can still be real partners.”

That little thread of hope that Helena had been clinging to since Myka began to open up grew a little and tugged at her chest, but she tried to tamp it down. She still didn’t know what that meant, exactly. She kept her tone calm and even. “What does that mean to you?”

Myka’s hands fluttered. “Just. Us. Talking. And. Um.”

Helena waited. She didn’t want to ask for too much and freak Myka out.

“And maybe moving in together? Like a real couple? Thinking about a shared future. Making decisions together. I wouldn’t be opposed to kids if that’s–”

“No!” Helena’s heart tripped and the breath caught in her lungs. Anything but that. She wasn’t ready yet, she might never be.

“Or not,” Myka said slowly. “I’m just saying. We can be a real couple, if that’s what you want. But if you don’t–”

“I do,” Helena rushed to reassure her. “I want a future and shared decisions with you. Just.” She sighed. “I haven’t told you everything about my past yet. Everything about me.”

Myka nodded slowly, her brow furrowed. “Okay. Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Maybe at dinner?” A little wine might help calm her a little. Plus, it would give her time to think of what she wanted to say. She smiled to reassure Myka, then patted her knee. “Thank you, though. For opening the discussion. I’m glad. Just because we’ll never fall in love doesn’t mean that I don’t care deeply you. You’re my friend, and I like the idea of us sharing a life together. For real, not just on paper. So, let’s finish getting ready, and we can talk more at the restaurant. Okay?”

Myka smiled back. “Okay.”

***

Myka waited patiently as they finished getting dressed, then as they walked down the street to her favorite Greek restaurant, and again as they were seated and made their food and drink choices. She’d had the idea to take Helena out to eat so they could discuss their relationship and the direction they each wanted it to take, but now she was wondering if they would have been better off staying at her parents’. But even after she’d brought up the subject, Helena seemed to want to have this discussion over dinner—or more likely, with a little liquid courage. Myka didn’t blame her, she’d been nervous all day, and had grown more so every time she thought about it.

Dad hadn’t been feeling too well, so he spent most of the day sitting in his favorite chair reading while Myka helped customers and did some stocking. She’d been grateful for the break from dealing with family, but then she’d felt guilty for wishing her father ill health. This having and acknowledging feelings thing was still not her favorite. Life had been easier when she’d buried it. But she wanted to try, for Helena and for herself, so she didn’t allow herself to regress. But other than her guilt and nerves, the day had gone fairly well, and she tried to keep herself in good spirits, given Helena’s seeming interest in discussing their future. And whatever it was in her past that had upset her when Myka had mentioned children.

Whatever it was, her reaction was odd. She always seemed so confident and well adjusted, Myka couldn’t imagine anything upsetting her too much. Was it just that she thought she’d be denied the right to have children because of her status as a Soulless, and therefore had taken it out of the equation? Had she had and lost a child? The latter seemed like a greater possibility, given Helena’s generally collected nature and lack of care for her Soulless status. But circling those questions would get her nowhere, so as soon as they’d ordered and their wine had arrived, she lifted her glass.

“To … us?”

Helena gave a crooked but real smile. “To us.” After they’d taken a sip—though Helena’s was more of a large gulp—she let out a slow breath. “I can see you brain working furiously, so I won’t hold you in suspense.”

She paused for a moment, opened her mouth, then closed it again. She took a few more breaths, then tried again, and Myka’s heart went out to her. It wasn’t easy revealing a deep part of yourself to someone, of this she was well aware by now. But she didn’t push or step in. Just sat and waited. Helena would speak when she was ready.

“When I was eighteen, I met a man—a fellow Wayward. Not a good man, but I wasn’t particularly after anything permanent, so I didn’t care. We had fun for a time, and then one day he left.” She smiled softly at nothing, lost in her past. “Seven months later, my Christina was born. It’s not easy, being a single parent, especially when one is not a widow. You know how this world works. You’re nothing without a mate. I homeschooled her, and we moved around a lot. Because of this, we were very close, despite her young age. She was … _so_ smart, a miniature me, if I might toot my own horn.”

She looked at Myka and grinned a little. Myka returned it with one of her own, though she felt a little off kilter. It was disarming enough, being the person Helena shared her painful past with, but more than that, she didn’t like seeing Helena hurting. Helena was her friend. She was the strongest person she knew, so she wanted to take that pain away, even though she knew that was impossible. She tamped down the frustrated part of her that wanted to go back to not feeling, not caring. It was no way to live. Life was painful, but it was also joyful, and she didn’t want to miss out on one just because she was afraid of the other. Myka nodded but kept her silence.

“But she was more than that, she was more than me. She was thoughtful and kind. She hated seeing animals or people hurting.” Helena gave a small chuckle. “One time, we ended up nursing an injured bird back to health, after we came across it in the park. Our flat was so tiny and it chirped loudly and endlessly. But she fed it and talked to it. She read everything she could find on nursing injured birds, and she followed the instructions perfectly, and never complained.” Then the smile dropped from her face. She swallowed hard.

“Just two days after we released the bird, she was walking home from the store with our next-door neighbor, Gwen. I was working, and Christina wanted macaroni for dinner, but we didn’t have any. Gwen had to go to the store, so she tagged along. We didn’t live in necessarily a _bad_ neighborhood, but it saw some crime. The mugger came up behind them. He had a gun. Gwen survived—just barely—and Christina did not.”

Even sort of expecting the outcome from the moment Christina’s name was mentioned, it still hurt to hear it said. Myka didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry’ sounded trite, but she needed to say something. She finally settled on “Thank you for telling me.” Helena nodded, then looked away, her glassy eyes shining in the candlelight.

The waiter came with their food, interrupting the moment, and after he’d left again, Myka scrambled for something to say. She decided to take a page from Pete’s book and try to lighten the mood. She cleared her throat. “Well, I hope the bird incident didn’t put you off pets forever. Because I’ve got a ferret.”

Helena gave a choked laugh, but she looked grateful for the change in subject. “How does Myka Bering acquire a ferret?”

“I found him in a kettle that I’d picked up in a load of antiques. The person selling them was the grandniece of the late owner of him, and didn’t want him, and by then Pete seemed to have taken to me, sooo I kept him.” She shrugged.

“Wait, you named your ferret Pete?” Helena asked, leaning forward in awe. “Let me guess. Cute but annoying, just like his namesake?”

Myka sighed long-sufferingly. “It seemed appropriate. But you have to _swear_ to not ever tell human Pete. He would be insufferable.”

“Well, as long as he doesn’t chirp incessantly all night, I think I can handle having Pete Jr. around.”

“He’s pretty quiet, which is very much not like the real Pete, so you should be safe.” She paused, seeing a good segue into the conversation they still needed to have. “So. You still want to move in together?”

Helena nodded. “Just because I’m not interested in romance or children doesn’t mean I don’t want a partner. I realized after Christina …” She tensed, then took a breath and continued. “_After_, I realized I like living with other people, having another person to help make life decisions. Someone to take to social events or just hide away from the world with. Someone to have inside jokes with, to grow old with.”

It was hard to breathe, listening to Helena’s words. Could that be something Myka could have? Was it something she wanted? She thought so and had been thinking similar thoughts for a couple of months now.

Helena looked at her with concern in her eyes. “Myka?”

Myka realized her eyes must be as glassy as Helena’s had been a few minutes before. She shrugged. “I told myself when I was thirteen that I didn’t need that, that I didn’t need anyone but myself.”

“And what do you think now?”

“I think …” Myka bit her lip. “I think that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep. In the dark, alone in my apartment, I feel like I’m the only person left in the world. It would be nice to have someone there. Not to talk to or even to wake up. Just some living presence reminding me I’m not alone.”

“Someone who isn’t Pete the ferret?” Helena offered with a wink.

Myka laughed. “Yeah.” Then she sobered. “But are you sure you want to move to Podunk, South Dakota? Job options are limited for a genius like you.”

“Well, it just so happens that I got a call this morning, offering me a job I applied for recently. It’s a teleworking job, so I can live anywhere that has an internet connection. It’s why I applied. And it means that I’ll have more time to work on my inventions and that Podunk, South Dakota, will suit just fine. If that’s where _you_ want to live.”

It was a thought Myka had been questioning for months. It wasn’t what she’d hoped for when she was younger, but her job at the Warehouse suited her surprisingly well. “The Warehouse was the first time I felt accepted,” she said slowly, staring unseeing at her food. “First with just the fact that I was never questioned about my soulmark or lack of mate. And then because everyone just accepted _me_. Myka. The rule follower, the buzzkill, the serious and non-talkative one. They just kept including me until I realized I actually liked interacting with them. That they were my _friends_.” She looked up at Helena, sitting quietly as she listened to Myka’s speech. “So, yeah, I think I do want to stay, if you’re really okay with that.”

“I really am,” Helena replied.

“Okay then,” Myka said with a nod. Then she had a thought, and to practice this whole sharing thing, she asked. “I’ve been on the Wayward forums since our talk in London. Are you– I mean, some–” She growled in frustration, then tried again. “I’ve read that some Waywards are aromantic. Is that …”

Luckily, Helena took pity on her then. “I believe that to be the case with some people, yes. And I do consider myself among that number. And asexual, if you want the whole of it.”

Distracted from her original line of questioning, Myka frowned. “But you had Christina.”

Helena shrugged. “Some asexuals like sex. I’m not sure I’m one of those, but in any case, I was still feeling myself out when I met Christina’s father. But I haven’t really felt the need for it, so …”

“So, you don’t want that to be a part of our relationship?”

Helena looked thoughtful. “Probably not, though I reckon I’m open to trying if yo–”

Myka grimaced and shook her head. “No. I mean, I like sex. Sex is great, but just. No. Not you and me. That’d be like having sex with my sister. Ew.”

“Okay then,” Helena said with a laugh. “Good to know. But feel free to have it with others if you need to.”

“You won’t mind?” It was hard trying to reconcile the idea. Myka was used to partners being soulmates. And who would cheat on their soulmate? But she and Helena weren’t soulmates. Still, she wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea.

“Of course not, darling. You’re my friend. My partner. I want you to be happy and healthy. For some people, that means regular sex.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. I want us to have an open partnership. In the sense of both communication and physical or emotional needs. If you’re not getting something from me that you need, you must tell me so we can either work it out between the two of us, or so you can find someone else who can help. Okay?”

God. Who would’ve thought a few months ago that they’d be having this—rather surreal—conversation now? But it was nice. It made Myka relax a little. It took the pressure off, knowing she didn’t have to be the perfect soulmate-like partner. It had always bothered her, the idea that soulmates had to be everything for each other—best friend, lover, emotional support. It was a lot to put on any one person. But the idea that other friends or lovers could take on some of the load … it was good. It made more sense.

“Yeah. I like that.”

“Good,” said Helena with a smile. “Now, let’s finish eating before our food gets any colder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, in my head, the Greek restaurant they go to is Jake and Telly’s on Colorado Avenue in Old Colorado City. Very tasty, and there’s a cute Chinese tea house under it.


	14. Chapter 14

The next month was a whirlwind of putting in Helena’s two-week notice, packing up her apartment, settling into her new job, and then settling into Myka’s—now their—home. It was a quaint little cottage that Myka had been renting since she started at the Warehouse, and its style surprised Helena. Myka had bottled everything up so tightly for so many years that Helena had expected her place of residence to be all beige-y and characterless, but the house was surprisingly inviting and warm. Well, the decorations inside were lacking, with basic flat-pack furniture and few wall hangings, but the building itself had the character of age—real wood floors, a charming porch, a brick fireplace, and even a couple of glass-stained windows. Given some decoration TLC, the place could be quite homey.

Myka had offered to look for something bigger—the place had two bedrooms, but Helena would need to use one for an office—but bedsharing didn’t bother Helena. In fact, she and Christina had done their share of living in studio flats when money was tight, and she’d grown used to having the warmth of another presence nearby. She hadn’t let herself think how alone she felt after Christina’s death, but when she and Myka had decided to become bonded partners, the idea had crept in, and now she kind of looked forward to having a bed (and life) mate.

Just over a month after they had talked in Colorado, Helena found herself standing in her new living room, attempting to come up with ideas to make the place a little cozier. She was saved from thinking about how non-artistic she was, though, by the ring of the doorbell. Myka was deep in a book, so Helena went to answer it, not completely surprised to see Leena, Claudia, and Pete at the door.

“Surprise!” Claudia grinned and held up a wrapped plate. “We come bearing snacks and house-warming gifts.”

Pete clomped in behind her with an explanation. “We knew Myka would dither about letting us come by, so we decided a surprise party was best. Hope you don’t mind!” His tone said he wouldn’t care if they did mind. It could have been intrusive or annoying, but Pete somehow managed to make it endearing, and Helena thought he was probably a good person for Myka to have around. Sometimes she could only be dragged out of her shell kicking and screaming, but she tended to enjoy herself once the protesting was done.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Leena said, offering at least a token apology for the crew. Helena liked her. She was quiet, but when she spoke, she always had something worth listening to.

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Helena assured, closing the door behind her. “It was going to be just a quiet night in for us, and I’m pretty sure it was going to be ramen for dinner, so I’m not about to turn down real food.”

“Do pinwheels and cookies count as real food?” Claudia asked, her forehead wrinkled in question.

“Duh,” Pete replied. “Plus, I brought a veggie tray, just for Myka.”

“She got onto him last time he ate cookies for lunch,” Claudia said conspiratorially.

“Helena, is everything– Oh,” Myka said, coming into the living room. “It’s you guys.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Oh, how wonderful. My _favorite_ people came to welcome my mate to town. That’s so thoughtful of them,’” Pete teased, slinging an arm around Myka’s shoulders. Helena waited for her to tense up and slide away, but she just rolled her eyes and jabbed Pete softly with her elbow.

“Shut up.”

“You just don’t want to admit you missed me,” Pete shot back, squeezing Myka tighter.

“Yes, in the hour since I was at work with you, I missed you,” Myka said, her tone flat, but she was smiling.

She had been doing well in coming to terms with her status as a ‘normal’ person over the past few months, and Helena was glad to see it. Though, in point of fact, she’d been seeing it already in their own interactions, but seeing her so relaxed with her friends boosted her spirits.

“Well _I_ missed you guys,” Helena cut in. Except for a quick stop by the shop a few days before, Helena hadn’t seen any of them since the bonding ceremony. “Please, take a seat wherever. Can I get anyone something to drink?”

She collected drink orders, and Claudia followed her into the kitchen, carrying a bag. “I’ve got some food that could use some plates, if you don’t mind me mooching,” she explained, sitting the bag on the counter. “So, you got moved in okay? I still can’t believe you moved from _Chicago_ to _Univille_. Aren’t you going to miss those big city lights?”

Helena shrugged as she pulled down plates and glasses. “I’ve lived all over, and I don’t really have a preference between urban and rural. My new job will let me live anywhere, and Myka seems to be thriving here, so who am I to change that?”

Claudia sighed. “Having a soulmate sounds so great. I wish I’d meet mine soon.”

“So, you don’t know who yours is yet?”

“Nah. Just my luck, mine will be a complete Luddite.”

“I can imagine that would be disarming. Myka said you’re pretty tech savvy.”

“Yeah. Mostly a hobby and school now. Maybe one day a real job.”

“Don’t you run the website and inventory database for the Warehouse?”

Claudia turned away from arranging food on platters and leaned against the worktop. “It’s just a part-time gig while I get my degree. With the way I’ve set up the systems, it basically runs itself now. Even Artie couldn’t frak it up.” Her tone was fond as she said it.

Helena had gleaned that Claudia and Artie had a bit of a father-daughter relationship, but she didn’t know much of their back story. “Did you two meet when you got the job?”

“Nah. He’s been a family friend for years. My big brother Josh worked for him in high school and college, doing deliveries. When I got old enough, we all just assumed I’d work there too, and here I am. I love everyone there, but it’s not really a good fit for my skillset in the long run. I like it for now though. It’s a good college job.”

They finished plating everything, then headed back to the living/dining area, where Pete practically jumped them to get at the food.

Myka started teasing him immediately, and Claudia soon joined in. Helena took two glasses of water and went to sit by Leena, who was watching with amusement from the couch.

“Do you get any work done, with those three constantly bickering?” Helena asked her.

Leena smiled. “Luckily, I only work there a few hours a week, and I learned to tune them out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, I assumed you worked there full-time like Myka.”

“No,” Leena replied, shaking her head. “Myka and Pete are the only full-time employees. Claudia works part-time between classes, and I work Mondays and Wednesdays. It’s a job I kind of shamed Artie into creating, after my first visit when I saw what a mess the place was.”

“Oh?” Helena settled back against the couch, recognizing the beginnings of a story when she heard one.

“Not dirty or anything,” Leena was quick to explain. “A little dusty, but that’s it. But very jumbled. You couldn’t find anything. I told him I could rearrange it and it’d bring in twice the number of sales. It started as a trial, but when those promised sales came in, Artie realized he should keep me on.” Leena looked smugly content.

“What do you do the rest of the time?”

“I own a B&B. That’s where Claudia lives, now that Josh is working at CERN. But other than her, it’s tourists or people in town visiting family. And sometimes new residents who haven’t found more permanent accommodations yet, like Pete and Myka when they first moved here. Between the B&B and the Warehouse, I keep pretty busy. And you? How are your new accommodations?” She waved a hand, indicating the home around them.

“Very charming. I like it. If I can talk Myka into actually decorating, I think it’ll be quite nice.”

“Tell me about it,” Leena agreed. “It’s so cute, but all she has is Ikea furniture and third-hand pieces.”

“And nothing on the walls,” Helena added. “Not that I can really talk. I might be inventive in the scientific realm, but not on the artsy side. I’m sure anything I add to the mix will look like a ten-year-old picked it out.”

Leena laughed. “I’d be happy to help out, if you want. I’ve seen some pieces at the Warehouse that would look great in here.”

“Oh, would you?” Helena said in relief. “I don’t know how much we can pay you, if we’re buying furniture, b–”

“You don’t need to pay me. I’ve been dying to get at this place for a year. And Myka’s my friend. And I hope you are too. I want to help.”

“I’d love to be your friend,” Helena agreed. “But I must insist on at least cooking you a few meals.”

“Fine. A few meals in exchange for much-needed decorating advice.”

They were interrupted then as the doorbell rang again.

“That must be Artie and Vanessa. They said they’d join us after Vanessa got off work, assuming Myka hadn’t kicked us out by then,” Leena said good-naturedly. She stood to head for the door, waving Helena down when she tried to get up.

Helena stood anyway but headed for the table for food. The other three stood around it, and Myka was pointing a celery stick at Pete while she passionately explained something. Coming closer, Helena realized they were arguing about a video game that Pete had talked her into playing recently. She slid in beside Myka to listen in.

“– and this _ten-year-old_ was scolding me for impolite game play, and I was like ‘Who died and made _you_ boss’ and he was all ‘our last leader, _before I murdered him_ for being an asshole.’ Can ten-year-olds say ‘asshole’? And I’m not so sure this murder game is good for his development. Are his parents not watching what he plays?”

Helena chuckled as she started piling snacks onto her plate. She’d been in the room when that incident had occurred, and she’d had trouble keeping quiet in the background. She loved listening to Myka retell it, too. No one could get heated like she could.

Before anyone could speak, Artie bustled over in his usual slightly-harried-and-annoyed-with-the-world way, carrying two bottles, which he sat on the table and waved at.

“Your majesty,” he said to Claudia, who replied with an excited “Score! Thanks, boss-man. I’ma go get the very fancy plastic flutes,” and bounced off to the kitchen, yelling a “Hey, Vanessa!” as she went.

Artie grumbled good-naturedly, then turned to Helena. “I’m not sure if I should be welcoming you to Univille or telling you to run while you can.”

Helena grinned. “I’ll take the welcome, thanks. It’s nice finally living in the same place as Myka,” she added, giving her mate a light hip check.

Myka smiled, then turned to Artie. “I tried to stop her, but her mind was made up.”

“Small towns are charming,” Helena argued. “It’s a nice change from city fumes and traffic jams.”

“Wait ‘til winter, and you may be whistling a different tune,” Pete warned.

Helena laughed. “As if Chicago is much warmer. Plus, we have a good furnace, and I work from home.”

“I’ve always wanted to work from home, so I could work in my underwear…” Pete said, a dreamy look on his face.

Claudia came back holding a bag of plastic champagne flutes, which she and Pete began sitting out on the table. Artie picked up a bottle and looked at it askance. “I hate opening these things,” he muttered, and Myka held out a hand.

“I don’t mind doing it. I mean, it _is_ my house and my mate. I suppose I should be in charge of some part of this impromptu party.”

Artie gladly handed over the first bottle, and Claudia took the second.

“On three?” she asked Myka, who sighed fondly and nodded. Claudia grinned, counted to three, and there were two pops. After the frothing calmed down, Claudia said “Everyone grab a glass. If you want fermented, line up in front of Myka, and if non-fermented is your poison, I’ll be your bartender.”

Helena started passing out flutes, and there was a jumble as everyone was poured a measure. Once everyone had a full glass, Claudia pointed the bottle to Artie. “Would you do the honors?”

Before Artie could grumble, Vanessa came to stand beside him and slid her hand into the crook of his arm. They smiled at each other, and Artie made do with only a slightly put-on sigh. He raised his glass, and everyone followed suit.

“To our dear friend, Myka, who has spent the last few years giving of herself to this group and has made us all better for it. And who was lucky enough to find a woman of intelligence, kindness, and good cheer to share her life with.”

“To Myka,” everyone chorused, except Myka, who blushed prettily instead. Helena hooked her own arm with Myka’s.

“To Helena,” Artie continued, “who we welcome to this town and this home, and who we hope to come to know and love as much as we do Myka.”

“To Helena!” everyone said, except Helena, who just squeezed Myka’s arm a bit tighter. And probably blushed a little too.

“We hope you both have many happy years together, and we’re all very lucky to get to know you. L'chayim and mazel tov.” Everyone repeated the last words, then drank. There was chaos then as everyone took turns hugging, which Myka took with good aplomb and Helena with somewhat more enthusiasm.

“I wanted to especially give you my own welcome,” Vanessa said a few minutes later, coming to stand by Helena where she watched the others fight over which board game to play, with Artie refereeing. “They’re a tight-knit and sometimes boisterous group. It’s easy to feel a little left out when you don’t spend all day at the shop with them.”

“That’s very sweet, and I’ll definitely keep it in mind.”

“Is that your way of waving me away as an old woman with bad advice?” Vanessa asked with good humor.

“No, no. I’m glad to have a fellow partner to roll eyes with when their antics get especially raucous.”

“But …”

Helena shrugged. “Not really a _but_. Just, I’m mostly happy to see the family Myka has gained here. I know how stand-offish she can seem when she meets people. God, it took quite a while for her to get used to even me. But each in their own way, everyone here has been so good for Myka and they’ve helped draw her out. I’m grateful, and I’m glad to have others to share that role with. I’ve always thought it was silly that so many believe a soulmate should provide all the support to their mate. That should never be all on one person.”

Vanessa titled her head and studied Helena for a few moments. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I like you.”

“Good. Wouldn’t do to earn the wrath of the town doctor. Because when I inevitably hurt myself during an experiment, I’ll be under your care.”

With a laugh, Vanessa looked back over at the group, and murmured that it looked like she’d have to go play referee as well. Helena waved her off, then looked around, realizing Myka was missing. She could be in the bathroom, but Helena had an inkling she’d be hiding in the kitchen. She went through to find her indeed hiding out under the pretense of adding more food to the serving plates.

“Hey,” Helena said, coming to stand next to Myka. “Everything okay?”

Myka nodded but didn’t look away from her task. Helena put an arm around her shoulders, and Myka came into the side hug easily. “What did I do to deserve them?” she asked quietly. She leaned her head onto Helena’s shoulder with a rather wet sigh.

“You were the whip-smart, strong, funny woman we all know you to be. They were right to love you as much as I do.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Myka added.

“Won the lottery, I think,” Helena teased gently, feeling that her partner needed a lighter mood before she went back out with the others.

Myka giggled. “I certainly did. But so did you,” she snarked right back. She put her arm around Helena’s waist and squeezed.

“That I did,” Helena agreed as she leaned her head on top of Myka’s. “You know, when I was younger, I didn’t think I needed anyone. I wanted to be in complete control of my life, with no one to answer to. And then I had Christina, and my whole outlook changed. It was nice, having someone to face the world with me when life got overwhelming. Someone to consider when I made decisions. Losing Christina was hard, but I’m glad I had her for even a short time. I wouldn’t be here without her, and that would be a shame, because I think I’m really going to like it being the two of us against the rest of the world.”

Myka squeezed her harder. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I hope you enjoyed my little foray into W13. I enjoyed getting to write these two lovely ladies together. Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumbler [@vateacancameos](http://vateacancameos.tumblr.com/).


End file.
